Stall (Along the Road – part 1)
by Jensine70
Summary: "What the two of us have could be described as a favor exchange program – and an intense flirtationship. And you know me, I'm a marshmallow … get too close to fire and I go all gooey on the inside." Part 1 (set in Season 1) is COMPLETE. Series continues in: Process (Along the Road – part 2)
1. Chapter 1: the boy Dad warned me about

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

I've read some great VM fics (various pairings). I haven't previously written anything in this fandom, but when this idea hit me, I had to write it ... just to get it out of my head.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 _Veronica POV_

Life's funny sometimes. Well, maybe 'funny' isn't the right word.

Puzzling. Peculiar. Perplexing. Perhaps, those words would be more apropos.

You think you know somebody. And then one day – wham!

Sometimes, it only takes an instant. A look. A touch.

A moment. One of _those_ moments.

And you can't believe it – can't believe what you're seeing and that you didn't see it before.

But then you do … see it. See him.

Everything turns upside down in that instant. Everything you thought you knew somehow shifts and reshapes like a kaleidoscope.

Looking through a lens and seeing the view finally come into focus.

It surprises you somehow. It might even make you smile or laugh nervously.

But 'funny' is not the right word.

And sometimes ...

Well, sometimes it's an accumulation of "little things" sprinkled with some of _those_ moments ... piling up over time. Until, they finally tip the scales.

[

There was a night recently when someone showed up unexpectedly to help me.

We had known each other for years. Growing up in the same town, you're bound to bump into the same people on occasion – especially when you're in the same grade. But when your father is the sheriff and the boy in question starts getting arrested when you're twelve, you know who he is and he knows who you are. No proper introduction needed.

When we were younger, we talked sometimes … the way kids do – not caring about what brand of clothing you're wearing or what neighborhood you live in or how much money your parents make or what cars they drive.

[

One summer, my family took a couple weeks to go camping in several state and national parks in California, Oregon, and Washington, even a few of days across the border in Canada. I remember one campground in particular. Dad told me later on that it was on Vancouver Island. I had met a couple of kids on the playground and when we went back to our campsites for dinner, we realized we were neighbors. I invited them to join us for s'mores later that night.

The thing about that day and that night that was so amazing was that those kids did not speak a word of English and I did not speak a word of French. And yet, we understood each other perfectly.

We played and we laughed.

We jumped in puddles and caught fireflies.

We found just the right sticks for toasting marshmallows.

I did not realize until years later that some of the best friendships are born that way – not people grouped together because they are the same, but people who are drawn together by a shared experience and who benefit from the fact that they come from different backgrounds.

My favorite photo in that vacation album is of me with those kids – taken the next morning as our parents were packing up to leave the campground.

[

I remember a few times like that when I knew Eli as a kid – before he started getting into trouble and my dad told me to stay away from him and the other boys he hung around. Dad made it clear that it wasn't about where they lived, saying that there were good people in his neighborhood just like there were good people in our neighborhood.

What I learned later on was that our neighborhood, in addition to having good people in it, also had not-so-good people. But I digress.

I remember being at the Sheriff's Department to see Dad when Weevil would get arrested during junior high. I could see he was trying to act tough with my father and the deputies. I could see how he would react when his grandmother came to pick him up. But I also saw how kind his eyes were when I would smile at him.

Sometimes at school, he would watch me like I was a puzzle he was trying to figure out. At some point, I stopped noticing him and he stopped noticing me.

Neptune was … well, Neptune. The kids in this town learn from a very young age how to sort shapes, sizes, and colors. My group of friends was different from his group of friends. Sorted.

Then one day (unbeknownst to me), our worlds overlapped again through a mutual connection to someone other than my dad.

Lilly Kane.

I did not know until later, but it was undeniable – her actions brought us together.

When she died, it set off a series of events that changed my life. When it first happened, I might have said that it changed the world around me, but with the passage of time, I see that what changed was my perception of the world around me.

The world didn't change. I did. I changed in order to better fit into what I knew now to be reality.

In this reality, I lost old friends and made new ones.

In this reality, I also did favors for boys my dad had warned me about when I was a child.

Admittedly, Weevil was different now than when we were younger, but then again, maybe not so different. Even as a kid, he had a thing for bikes. It's true what they say about boys and their toys: bigger and more expensive.

Now that Dad was a P.I. and no longer Sheriff, he sometimes did some things that weren't exactly on the up and up. I had learned a thing or two (or a dirty dozen) from him. So although he would still prefer that I not hang out with the local criminal element, he couldn't really fault me for occasionally associating with someone who could help me out now and then. Could he?

The same sense of justice that compelled me to cut Wallace down from the flagpole was the same sense of justice that can't stand to see 09ers treated like they are perfect and the same sense of justice that knows oftentimes Lamb gets it wrong. Sometimes, the kid from the wrong side of the tracks is just an easy target, not actually the one who perpetrated that particular crime.

So we exchanged favors. Weevil and me. Not exactly friends, but not enemies either. Allies, I guess you could say.

Shakespeare was on to something: "Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows."

[

[

So, about that night ... I had not expected him to show up, had not asked him to. But there he was. And thank God he did. Not sure I'd be alive to tell the tale if he hadn't taken it upon himself to play the role of protector that night.

I was working on a case. I won't bore you with the details of it now ... except to say that while looking into something else entirely, I stumbled upon a connection to the Fitzpatricks. I had only heard of them at this point. Without consulting mugshots at the station, I wouldn't have known them if I ran into them on the street. But I knew their reputation enough to know that if they were connected to the case I was working – well, things could get messy and I should probably get some assistance.

I had asked Weevil to check out some info for me. He was able to confirm enough of it that he was concerned and ordered a couple of his boys to watch out for me and report back to him.

One night, I decided to do a little undercover work. I was going to check out a club where I might find the next piece of my current puzzle. The boys saw me leave my apartment in boots, a miniskirt, a camisole top, and more hair and makeup products than I normally wear. They immediately called Weevil. Once they knew where I was headed, they called him back with an address.

Imagine my surprise when I'm standing in line waiting to get into this club … and a leather-clad arm encircled my waist, as a low voice whispered just behind my ear: "Just roll with me here, V. I'm your backup tonight."

I spun around in his embrace, looked him right in the eyes and cooed, "Baby, you made it! I thought you would never get here."

"Couldn't let my girl go out alone, now could I?" His gaze was heavy on me as he said, "And the way you look tonight … no way I'm letting you out of my sight."

For the remainder of the wait in line, we pawed at one another just enough to be convincing as a couple. Once we got inside, we sat down at a table and were able to talk.

I gave him my sweetest look (in case anyone was watching) while I spat at him, "What exactly do you think you're doing here?"

"Saving your sweet ass, chica." He had leaned closer, so that we would not be overheard.

"My sweet ass is just fine."

He tilted his head as he countered, "Yes, it is. But that's not the point. The, uh, clientele here can get a bit rough. So when the boys told me what you were wearing and where you were going—"

"Wait. Who told you? And what do you care what I'm wearing?" Purely for the sake of keeping up appearances (or so I told myself), I ran the tip of my index finger down the side of his neck, continuing down his chest.

"Okay, first, I'm gonna assume you are here undercover – which means while we're arguing or whatever the hell this is, you're wasting time. But to answer your last question: when a hot chick wears something revealing, I'm gonna care … at least a little bit. Red-blooded male, here."

"Still wanna know what you meant by the boys telling you, but did you just say that you think I'm hot?" I bit my lower lip while I twirled my hair.

He rubbed the back of his head as he shook away that last question. "After you had me check out that lead for you, I got a little worried since it looked like this could land you on the Fitzpatricks' doorstep. I told the boys to keep an eye on you."

"And to let you know if they thought I needed backup?" I waited, but he did not reply. "And what? They told you I left my house without my burka and you were concerned another red-blooded male might look at me."

"Woah, _sweetheart_. Didn't mean it like that. I know you think you're all badass and honestly you can take care of yourself in most circumstances, but I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror if something happened to a girl and I knew I could've done something about it."

"So this has nothing to do with me? You'd do this for any girl? Any random girl. How many girls you got them following?" I was smirking now, letting him know that I wasn't angry – not exactly.

"Alright, so now that I'm here, you gonna tell me the plan?"

In my best affectation of an old movie voice, I said, "Well, I'm looking for this dame, see." I laughed and then continued, "Seriously though, I am looking for a girl, a woman, a particular woman. And although I do not expect her to be here tonight, I'm hoping to find a lead. Detective work is slower and way less glamorous than it looks on tv and in the movies."

"How do you want to play this?"

"Well, this – what we're doing now – is a good way for us to see the whole room. You looking over my shoulder, me looking over yours."

"Yeah, but wouldn't we have a better view if we were closer to the middle of the room?" He raised one eyebrow as he asked.

"What are you getting at?"

"Care to dance?" He stood and held out his hand.

And just like that, the boy who never went to school dances swept me off my feet. He was a natural on the dance floor. He knew how to lead better than any guy our age I had ever danced with. So easy to follow his lead. Our bodies seemed to know each other intuitively.

Right now, in this moment – removed from our normal setting at school, away from our neighborhoods, friends, families – it was just about me and him. And we didn't need words.

I found myself thinking of Cherry Valance in The Outsiders saying, "I could fall in love with Dallas Winston." Yep, total 'good girl' bait.

It was easy to forget about everything else. That was dangerous for a couple reasons: 1) at the end of the day, he's still the leader of a motorcycle gang and 2) I was working a case and couldn't afford to get distracted.

As if he could read my mind, he moved his mouth to my ear and said, "Tell me what I should be looking for."

"Anything shifty, anything that doesn't fit. Some of what I found so far could mean that this could involve drugs, human trafficking, possibly stolen goods. So—"

"Any activity that looks vaguely illegal?" His voice was thick with sarcasm.

"Exactly."

"Think I can recognize that when I see it." He laughed and I felt his breath warm on my neck.

After a quiet moment, I asked, "You gonna tell me why you were so worried about me being here by myself?"

"I know enough about the place that I wouldn't want any girl I knew comin' here alone." He pulled back to look me in the eye. His expression was part caring, part warning.

The music changed and I suggested that we go back to the table. As we started to sit down, he leaned toward me and said, "Just trust me. Okay?"

Before I could reply – or even think of a reply – he pulled me against himself as he sat down. I found myself straddling his lap, trying not to look shocked.

He said matter-of-factly, "You can see behind me and I can see behind you. That was what you suggested, right?"

I swallowed and managed to voice, "Mm-hmm."

He muttered something about making it look good for anyone who might be watching. I didn't think about what he meant until his hands were roaming places that … well, let's just say that when I was dating Duncan, this would have been way past what I would have considered appropriate PDA.

While he was describing what he saw behind me, one of his hands slid a little higher on my thigh, up under the edge of my miniskirt. I wasn't expecting it. And although I managed to not jump or flinch noticeably, he felt me stiffen.

"Sorry, V. Wasn't paying attention. Well, I was paying attention to the people behind you … just, uh, not what my hands were doing. No need to taser me, right?"

I relaxed into the arm he had around my back and the nervous look left his face. My legs had started to become uncomfortable and I shifted in such a way that he was now becoming uncomfortable.

He firmly grabbed both sides of my pelvis with his hands and held me still as he said urgently through gritted teeth, "V, you need to stop that ... unless you actually intend on starting something. In which case, I'm gonna need an updated version of the ground rules."

My heart began to race the moment his hands made contact with my hips. My breathing pattern shifted, though I tried to keep it steady. I knew that I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it – I looked into his eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes. The same ones that had studied me when we were kids. The same ones that always seemed to be filled with kindness when I had smiled at him. Those eyes framed with lush, full lashes.

Damn, if he batted those at me right now, he'd own me.

Just as I was about to say something to break the tension, he ducked his head toward my neck and pulled my head down too. "I just saw one of the Fitzpatrick brothers. He's with a couple guys, but I didn't see their faces."

My lips inadvertently brushing the skin on his neck as I said, "They don't know who I am, so why are you worried about hiding my face?"

"That may be so, but they do know my face and if they see you with me, that'll put a target on your back faster than this investigation of yours."

We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, faux making out. Then, he said again, "Trust me." He stood up, taking me with him, and steered me down the hallway – all the while, nuzzling my neck and pulling my hair toward my face to prevent anyone from getting a good look at me.

Before I knew what was happening, he pushed open the door to the women's restroom. He quickly shut the door behind us and verified that we were alone. Easy to check. None of the stalls had doors.

"Now what?" I asked.

"We wait a bit. Then, I get you out the back door without them seeing us."

As someone was turning the doorknob, he pulled me into the first stall. Pressing my back into the wall and pulling my one foot up to rest on the toilet seat, he stepped between my legs. His entire body was flush against mine.

When my eyes widened in surprise, he mouthed the words: _trust me_.

The person had come in, locked the doorknob, and moved the trashcan in front of the door. Then, he came to stand in front of the stall we now occupied.

Weevil pulled my head to the opposite side of his neck as he said to the guy, "My girl and I were looking for a little privacy. You mind?"

* * *

A/N:

When I originally posted this chapter, I had written 7K words and divided it into chapters. I posted Ch 1 the day after I wrote it, planning to post the rest soon after and mark it complete. But I got curious about what led up to the scene at the end of this chapter. Then, it didn't take long before I could see a different version of the Season 1 finale play out in my head. So, I continued writing.

Thanks for reading!

~Jen


	2. Chapter 2: S1 Ep10

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Chapter 1 occurs near the end of Season 1. Chapter 2 takes a look back at #1.10 "An Echolls Family Christmas."

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

See, the thing about me is … being a badass is learned behavior, a very carefully cultivated persona.

But the truth that lies beneath the surface – and my primary problem – is that I'm really just a marshmallow.

And that means when I get too close to fire, I go all gooey on the inside.

[

[

Back before Christmas, there was a poker game. For some reason, when they had an empty chair, it never occurred to them to ask me. Amazing that I was able to keep my card shark status under wraps while dating Duncan and being in that social circle. But Lilly knew. She and I used to play heads up poker. She wanted to improve her skills so that when she played strip poker she could control how the game went. She was much better than she ever let anyone else know, but then again, sometimes she wanted to get naked. Easier to pretend to play badly and occasionally have a "lucky" hand. What a hustler she was!

When she and I played, it was cutthroat. We didn't play for money. Sometimes, we'd play for … well, that's a story for another time.

Maybe if they had invited me in the first place, the thief wouldn't have been able to steal the $5,000.

I spent days questioning the guys who had been there. Duncan Kane. Logan Echolls. Conner Larkin. Sean Friedrich. And Weevil. Quite a motley crew.

I probably would have helped solve the mystery anyway, but I must admit that Duncan had me a bit nervous when he told me about the journal he kept on his computer.

When I went to talk to Weevil and asked him to let me handle it, he studied me carefully while we were talking. I realized right then how much I would love to play cards with him. I had gotten the info I came for and was about to go when he nodded to the other guys, indicating that they should leave the room.

After I sat down next to him, he leaned toward me. "Why do you care so much? I don't think you're concerned about me getting my money. Trying to figure you out. You cut that boy down from the flagpole. Waved your magic wand to give us a good reason to leave him alone. Why did you care about him? I know you wouldn't just help us – help me – if there weren't another reason. What do you get out of this? I don't figure you get paid for most of these jobs that are more like favors. So why are you poking your nose into this poker game? Who's the favor for this time? One of the 09ers? Trying to get back in their good graces so they'll let you sit at their lunch table again?"

I had held his gaze throughout his monologue, trying to decide how honest to be. "After the way my former friends have treated me, I'm more likely to do favors for anyone but them. What can I say? I like an underdog. New kid vs. PCHers – I side with the new kid. PCHer vs. 09ers – well … that's a no brainer."

"In what world do you imagine that I'm the underdog … in need your help? Top of the food chain, baby." He pointed to himself. "Tell me the real reason you care so much."

"Well, I'm all about fair play. If you win, you should get the prize money."

"Not buyin' it. Try again."

"That's the truth."

"But not the whole truth. Is it, V?"

I was becoming more and more uneasy. Could I trust him enough to ask him to keep Duncan's laptop under lock and key? Trust him to not look at it himself?

As he watched me, I watched him. His expression changed. I gave him a nervous smile and just like that, I was transported back to the Sheriff's Department when we were kids. When I looked into his eyes now, I saw the same kindness I had seen then.

"I'm not done with that topic, but I got another question for you." He waited to see if I would respond. When I didn't, he charged ahead. "What the hell happened? I mean, I know that your best friend was murdered and your dad lost his job and your mom ran off. But why did your friends turn on you? You know, other than the obvious – they're assholes."

"That pretty much covers it."

"And then, you get a makeover," he gestured to my appearance, "and a new personality."

Something in his eyes made me feel safe and defensive at the same time. I felt like any moment he could either offer me comfort for all that I had been through or turn on a dime and start recounting the various rumors that circulated about my reputation. Is that what he meant by "new personality" or did he mean the attitude I had adopted, my defense mechanism?

"Short version: I thought they were my friends, but I was wrong. Circumstances sometimes help people develop character, but it will always reveal character. All the stuff that happened showed me who they really are."

"Then, why are you trying to get their stuff back for them?"

I looked at him again trying to assess how much I could trust him. I looked around to be sure we were indeed alone and that the door was closed. "Cards on the table? You and I have something in common. Trust does not come easy for us. That wall we put up is a protective measure. It's necessary for survival – especially in Neptune." I paused, continuing to assess. "The way I see it, you and I have stumbled into a mutually beneficial arrangement. We could continue with it purely as a favor exchange or …"

"Or what?"

"One of us could go out on a limb and decide to trust the other."

"I trust my boys and I trust my family – well, most of my family. But not many other names on that list."

"Well, then I guess I'll make the first move." She could not help but laugh when he raised an eyebrow at that. "Not that kind of move, vato. Look, I know under all the tattoos, leather, and male bravado, there's a heart. I've seen it with your grandma. I've seen it … well, I just have. So I'd like to ask that while I'm working on getting your money back, would you please …"

"I like it when a girl says _please_." He looked like a panther ready to pounce, but I could see a hint of a smile.

"I'm trying to be serious here. Please make sure that Duncan's laptop …"

He tilted his head and studied me carefully, trying to read on my face what I was not saying aloud. "What does he have on you?" His voice was concerned, protective.

Although whatever Duncan might have written in his journal could be embarrassing, it's not like he had naked pictures of me or anything. But for the moment, I decided to let Weevil make assumptions if it would ensure that the contents of the laptop stayed confidential.

"Ex-boyfriend. Bad breakup. I'd rather whatever he has on there not become public knowledge."

"Really think you can get my money back?"

"I do. It's gotta be one of the four. I like my odds."

He stood and began walking toward the door. "You comin'?"

I wasn't sure why he wanted me to follow him, but I was curious. He led me to the shop. He asked me to wait near the door. I heard noises, but was not sure what I was hearing. Then, a metal door slammed. A locker, maybe? A minute later, he was standing in front of me with a folded brown paper grocery bag.

He glanced around before saying, "I've got one condition."

I didn't know what he was asking me to agree to. But in that moment, I knew that I could trust him.

"You hold onto this until I get my money."

"What?" I asked as he handed me the bag. I felt the weight of it – heavier than I expected a folded bag to be. I opened it and saw a laptop inside. I looked up at him, stunned and speechless.

"I'm gonna choose to trust you on this. Don't make me regret it." He tried to lace his words with warning, but his eyes were soft.

"Thank you." My world had turned upside down. I no longer trusted my old friends, but I trusted a gang leader. And he had just shown that he trusted me.

I didn't plan it, it just happened. I gave him a kiss on the cheek. And I'm pretty sure he blushed. But I didn't get a good look, he turned quickly, walking away.

[

[

It should come as no surprise that I solved the mystery. When Weevil and Sean left to have a little chat, I dealt the first hand. I guess I could have played it coy – you know, like Lilly would have. However, I decided that although I would continue to wear a mask most of the time – my carefully cultivated air of mystery – I would openly own my status as a badass poker player. Hell, I didn't even cheat – well, not exactly. I mean, no second dealing … no dealing from the bottom … nothing like that. But they were so easy to read – all of them open books. Not difficult at all: "See Dick and Jane play cards. See Dick try to bluff. See Dick bet on a lousy hand. See Jane take his money." Almost felt bad separating these rich fools from their money. Almost.

Weevil returned to the game with his signature smirk and swagger. Well, until I started to kick his ass and take his money. I think at one point, I may have caught a glimpse of respect and amusement in his eyes as he watched me play with these guys.

When we took a break to get food at the Christmas party Logan's parents were having, Weevil stayed close to me, making conversation. I had to apologize to him at one point. I got distracted when I saw Jake Kane and missed something that Weevil was trying to tell me. He held my plate when I left the room to talk to Jake. Not long after that, chaos ensued – Aaron got stabbed, his stalker was arrested, party guests gave witness statements. But what Lynn would want you to remember is that there were carolers in Dickensian costume.

Those of us who had been playing cards went back to the pool house to settle up. Conner and Duncan had suggested to Logan that we not finish the game. I was not surprised when he agreed, but I was surprised when they handed me the full $5,000. Then, Logan added (and the others nodded) that he never wanted to see me at their poker game again.

As I was walking to my car, Weevil caught up to me. "They really didn't know that you were a card shark?"

"Nope. I'm pretty good at throwing a pool game, too." I winked at him.

He laughed, saying, "My kinda girl. We should hang out more often." He became noticeably uncomfortable when that slipped out. After shifting his weight, he looked away as he changed the subject. "Uh, thanks for figuring out who stole my winnings. Nice time of year to have some extra cash."

Nodding my agreement, I got my keys out.

"Mind if I ask whether you're gonna delete the stuff on Duncan's laptop before you return it?"

"Now that you mention it, that's not a bad idea," I said in a breathy voice. Even though it may have been overkill, I added a head tilt.

I was about to get into my LeBaron when he asked another question. "What was that with Jake Kane earlier?" When I didn't answer him, he pressed further. "You were distracted before you left the room and you seemed upset when you came back."

I went into evasion mode – avoided answering, avoided eye contact. But Weevil is no dummy.

He simply nodded. "I'm gonna give you a pass for now. But V … you decide you want to talk, you know where to find me. And don't be surprised if I ask again sometime."

As I drove home, I was still trying to figure out this puzzle of a man. And I asked myself if I could trust Weevil with the things I was unearthing while investigating Lilly's murder.

[

[

Trust. It can be built, created, established, cultivated.

It can also be lost, destroyed, allowed to disintegrate.

It's enough to boggle the mind. Strong and fragile at the same time.

Trust. A puzzlement.

That night … that night when he showed up at the club … when we found ourselves in that bathroom stall …

That whole night was one very long trust exercise.

* * *

A/N:

Thanks for reading! Until next time ..

~Jen

30 June 2016


	3. Chapter 3: S1 Ep11

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Chapter 3 occurs during a modified version of #1.11 "Silence of the Lamb."

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

The holidays had come and gone much too quickly for my taste. It seemed like just yesterday we were setting up the tree and decking the halls, baking cookies and singing carols. Now, the decorations were back in their storage boxes and school vacation was over.

However, my pre-Christmas windfall had given me something to smile about. With my poker winnings, I had splurged a bit on gifts – a little something extra in my father's stocking, a show of appreciation for my BFF Wallace, and for myself ... a big deposit into my college fund.

Oh, yeah ... and during the after-Christmas sales, I got a new ornament to put on the tree next year. "What is it?" you ask. What else? A pony! Not a real live one. Not even life-size. But it was all mine!

I was trying to be good, saving most money that came into my hands, but I might need to think about spending some on car repairs, since lately the LeBaron had a tendency to stall. Other than that, life was just peachy keen, jellybean.

Dad was keeping busy helping the Sheriff find a serial killer.

My fellow students were falling all over themselves to pay me to dig into their parents' backgrounds, finding any and all dirt.

And in my spare time, I continued to investigate Lilly's murder.

[

[

When I was in need of a diversion to get Deputy Leo's keys for the evidence room, Weevil had nearly jumped at the chance to pull one over on the Sheriff's Department. I didn't realize until later that he had stood in the hallway listening while I talked and flirted with Leo.

As I arrived home that night, I saw his bike in the parking lot. After I climbed out of the car, I thanked him for his assistance. He had, after all, done a fabulous job.

"Got what you needed?"

I shrugged as I said, "I got what I was looking for. Not sure yet whether it'll lead anywhere."

"The deputy … that what you're looking for? Is that gonna lead anywhere?"

"What?" I wasn't entirely sure what he was getting at.

"I was in the hall for a while before I rang the bell on the counter. I know you do this kind of thing a lot, but that performance of yours was pretty convincing … if it was a performance."

I leaned against my car mere feet from where he was leaning on his bike. I wished that I could hear his thoughts. There was something in his eyes, something I couldn't quite read.

"One of the perks. Sometimes, I get to flirt with cute guys."

"Like the deputy." He sighed and looked down.

"Or a biker."

That caused him to look up. "Every time you talk to me, flirt with me … that's just part of your job?"

" _Every_ time?" I pushed away from the car and took a step toward him. "Maybe not _every_ time. Sometimes, I just want to see those beautiful eyes of yours up close and personal." I let out a light giggle as I tilted my head and flipped my hair.

He threw his head back as he laughed aloud. "Yeah, alright. But you know you can do better than that guy, right?"

"Like who? Got someone you want to fix me up with?" I inhaled sharply, in exaggerated surprise. "Wait – are you and the boys starting a matchmaking service? Branching out into legal activities? Smart move. It's good to diversify." I nodded approvingly.

"You done?" He looked away before saying, "I just meant you're too good for him. You're too good for the rich boys you used to hang with, especially ... well, don't get me started on the whole missing-car-with-a-piñata-full-of-steroids fiasco."

My name should be Cat because curiosity would be the death of me. "Do tell. What exactly should I be looking for in a guy?"

He looked like I had caught him off-guard. That was no small feat. Maintaining an unreadable expression when faced with unexpected situations … well, that was part and parcel of his daily life. I'm sure that his credo included the phrase: _give nothing away_. But under the circumstances, he should not have been surprised that I would turn it back around on him and call his bluff.

Clearing his throat, he recovered and said, "Smart as you are … well, I'll let you figure that out for yourself."

He turned to swing one leg over the seat of motorcycle.

I said, "Thanks again, Weevil." But I was thinking: Still trying to puzzle you out, boy.

"Anytime, V," he said as he put on his helmet.

I turned to go inside, intent on listening to the CD of calls to the Crime Stoppers Hotline as soon as possible.

[

[

Since Wallace was busy with basketball, I had begun enlisting Weevil's help more often.

We were building trust. And brick by brick, we were tearing down our walls.

We were also circling one another, studying each other, trying to understand the other.

Or maybe it was an attempt to stall for time.

* * *

A/N:

Thanks so much for reading! Until next time …

~Jen

2 July 2016


	4. Chapter 4: S1 Ep12

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Chapter 4 occurs during a modified version of #1.12 "Clash of the Tritons."

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

When I stepped out into the bright sunlight (after spending some quality time with Sheriff Lamb), I was about to take Cliff up on his offer to drive me back to the school to get my car, but something changed my mind: Weevil.

He was sitting on a bench talking on his phone, which he quickly hung up when he saw me exiting the building. "I heard you might need a ride."

Looking a bit relieved, Cliff said, "Actually, I 'm late for an appointment. So that works for me." He started to walk away and then, turned back around. "I won't tell your dad about this if you don't. The part about me not giving you a ride, that is."

I just nodded before turning my attention back to Weevil. I asked, "How inflated are the rumors? Anywhere near the truth?"

"There are some pretty wild ones. But I'm gonna go with: someone tipped them off that you were _allegedly_ making fake IDs, you were arrested, and got suspended for three days. How'd I do?"

"Not bad."

"One of the boys saw them taking you out of school. I would have paid to see you in cuffs."

"You can't afford my rates."

His eyes widened at the implication.

Without acknowledging what I was sure he was thinking, I asked, "Do you know of anyone at school who is making and selling IDs?" When he shook his head, I added, "Can you ask around?" I knew that I would end up asking Wallace too, but it couldn't hurt to have Weevil checking with his contacts, which was a decidedly different list than Wallace's.

"You mean as a _favor_? Sure." Handing me a helmet, he added, "Anyway, about that ride…"

[

[

I had put a bug in the stapler Miss James had on her desk so I could listen in on the grief counseling sessions she was doing with people who were close to Lilly. Being suspended meant I had lots of free time to listen to what the device picked up.

I was not expecting to hear Weevil talking to Miss James. And I certainly wasn't expecting to hear what he had to say.

He had asked me about what happened with Jake Kane at the Christmas party. I guess if I was gonna ask him about Lilly, I'd need to tell him about some things, including Jake Kane.

Later that night, I was placing a camera in a glass display case at the school, positioning it so that it would show me who was going in and out of the locker that was connected to the person selling IDs. On my way out the school, I saw a motorcycle next to my car. I slowed my walk, stalling for a little time to think.

"V, what are you doing breaking into the school this fine evening?"

"I admit to entering … and exiting. But there was no breaking involved."

"Seriously, though. What are you doing?"

"I set up a camera that will hopefully give me the evidence I need to get the charges dropped."

He commented, "So … surveillance, not B&E."

After nodding, I began to tread lightly, "Speaking of surveillance … there's something I want to talk to you about. Do you mind if we sit in the car? 'Cause I don't think this will be a short conversation. I mean, if you have the time."

"Veronica, I will make the time."

He had an odd look on his face and a strange tone in his voice. Plus, he called me by my full name. Weird.

"Why exactly?"

"Me, you, parked car, deserted lot at night…"

"I've got enough false rumors floating around about me. I don't need you adding any." I pointed my index finger at him and gave him my best glare as I got in behind the steering wheel.

He got in the front passenger seat and said sarcastically, "So, how was your day?" Seeing my face, he dropped the attitude and asked, "What is it?"

"First … hear me out before you get mad."

"Why would I get mad?"

I avoided that for the time being. "Second, remember how you trusted me with Duncan's laptop after I trusted you enough to tell you … you know. Well, you asked about Jake Kane and I'm ready to answer that question, but I need to follow it up with a question of my own."

He settled back against the door, looking prepared to listen with minimal interruption.

"I'm not sure where to begin really. I guess for starters … I don't think Abel Koontz killed Lilly. I've been doing my own investigation. I don't have enough pieces, yet. But the ones I have … they don't fit … which I why I went to visit Koontz in prison … a few weeks before the poker game mystery."

Weevil was trying to look like he was not personally interested in what I was saying.

I continued, "He implied – strongly implied – that Jake Kane is my father. I knew that Jake and my mom dated in high school. Not that long ago, the two of them met at the Camelot. And we both know what that usually means. Anyway, I had a DNA test run on my dad and I, but when the results came, I couldn't look at them. Shredded the envelope without opening it."

"V, I don't even know what to say to that."

"It gets more complicated. I found photos my mom left in a safe deposit box. Surveillance photos of me. They were taken by the head of security at Kane Software. You wanted to know what that was about, that night at the Echolls' Christmas party. I was asking Mr. Kane about the photos."

"What did he say?"

"He acted like he didn't know about them. But then, he stormed out of the room. When he found his wife, he grabbed her by the arm. I don't know what he said to her, but it did not look amicable."

After a moment, he interrupted the silence. "You said you wanted to ask me something."

"Yeah, so … the camera I just put in the school is not the only surveillance I'm doing right now. As part of my investigation into Lilly's death, I put a bug in someone's office." I waited to see if he would put it together on his own. "There are some inconsistencies in some of the info I've collected. And there's always the possibility that somebody would consider something insignificant that might actually be important. But they might let it slip in casual conversation ... or in a counseling session."

His reaction was instantaneous – fists clenched, jaw set, eyes wild, breathing erratic.

Calmly, I pointed out, "This is why I asked you not to get mad until you heard everything."

"There's more?"

"Well, not really. If you remember what you said when you met with Miss James, then you know what I heard. I want you to know that I wouldn't tell anyone what you said. And if you ever want to talk about it, like you said to me ... you know where to find me. Also ... now that I know you had a connection to Lilly, I thought …"

"That I might want to help you find out if they got the right guy?"

"Yeah."

"I'm assuming that means you don't think I did it."

"No, of course not." I leaned toward him to place a hand on his arm. "Would I be sitting here alone with you in a parked car if I thought you killed my best friend?"

[

[

It was quite a fun-filled week – a few more days of suspension meant a few more days of listening to the counseling stylings of Miss James via her stapler.

In other fun, I got photographic proof of a secret society.

After cracking the case of the horrible, no good, very bad fake IDs … and serving up the guilty party on a silver platter, I went back to my regular (though, far from normal and never boring) life.

After school, I found Weevil waiting by my car.

"I heard the charges got dropped. That mean you caught the guy on candid camera?"

"It was a little trickier than that, but yeah, I got him. In the process, I managed to piss off the wrong people, got locked in the trunk of my car."

"What?! Who?! And why the hell am I just hearing about this now? Why didn't you call me?"

"I'm fine. Wallace came and got me. It was more of a prank than anything. A bunch of nitwits didn't like that I found out about their super secret club."

He was looking at my wrists. "They tied you up."

I could almost see the smoke coming from his nostrils. "Weevil, I'm fine. Really. They didn't tie the rope very tight. They even left my cell phone in my pocket. As soon as I got loose, I called Wallace. When he got there, the keys were in the lock of the trunk. If they truly meant to hurt me, they didn't do a very good job of it."

"I can't stand idiotic assholes who do stuff like that to women." He shook off the tension and anger, but asked again anyway, "You're sure you're okay? Nothing you need me to do?"

"No, I'm good, but now I know who to call when I need a bodyguard."

And just like that, my favorite flirt buddy was back. He smirked and cocked an eyebrow. "Be happy to guard that body of yours anytime, V."

He didn't actually promise. It was more like an offer. But in the days to come, he did keep that unofficial promise.

* * *

A/N:

Thanks for reading! Until next time ...

~Jen

5 July 2016


	5. Chapter 5: S1 Ep13-18

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Chapter 5 occurs during modified versions of #1.13 "Lord of the Bling" / #1.14 "Mars vs. Mars" / #1.15 "Ruskie Business" / #1.16 "Betty and Veronica" / #1.17 "Kanes and Abel's" / #1.18 "Weapons of Class Destruction"

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

After seeing Weevil's reaction to the news that I had been locked in my trunk, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by his behavior during the months that followed. But at the time, I had read his reaction more as protective than anything else. There was also that odd conversation after I flirted with Leo in order to get access to the evidence room. Looking back, I can see that Weevil was jealous, but at the time, I don't know … maybe, I just didn't want to see it.

As time passed, it became undeniably clear.

[

[

In February, my dad and I were both working on a number of cases: a music mogul's daughter (who I happened to know) had gone missing, one of my teachers was accused of having an inappropriate relationship with a student (as it turns out, rightly accused by the wrong student), and the Russian mob tried to enlist our help finding someone (who was in witness protection hiding from ... you guessed it, the Russian mob). In addition to that, Logan had asked me to try to find his mother, because he was convinced that she was still alive.

When we were working to find the daughter of "Bone" Hamilton, I spent quite a bit of time thinking about when Yolanda arrived at Neptune High. After helping her find her first class, I introduced her to my little circle of friends. It seems like such a long time ago.

But I still remember how our budding friendship was cut short. I told Lilly that I saw Yolanda and Logan kissing at a party. Right after that, my BFF declared Yolanda dead to us. However, in the early days of getting to know each other, Lilly had talked about how she couldn't stand when Logan would go crazy if he saw someone looking at her. Yolanda had said, "I know it's not cool to admit this, but I like a jealous streak on a man. Keeps 'em in line."

The way she had said it so plainly … at the time, it was a bit shocking to me, so I remember her words as if it were yesterday. In this situation, it was not so much Logan's jealous streak that affected things, but rather Lilly's jealous streak that demanded our group (including me) end our friendship with Yolanda.

My mind was sifting through memories of events and things said over the past few years … while also trying to make sense of the past few months.

Before Lilly was murdered and my mother left, life wasn't simple, but I saw it that way. More often than not, I did not see the flaws in people or the evil in the world; I ignored bad behavior and extreme emotions. In some ways, it was because I truly wanted to believe the best of everyone and everything, but in part, it was due to my naiveté. My eyes have been opened to the harsh realities of life since then.

Due to my dad's line of work, I have seen more evidence of dysfunctional relationships than I care to recount. But sometimes an emotion is just an emotion. Jealousy does not always escalate into rage; it does not always end in abuse or murder. Sometimes, it is not even a sign of dysfunction; sometimes, it is just a natural human emotional response. But I had to admit that I still found Yolanda's comment slightly unsettling.

As naïve a notion as it might be, the hopeful romantic in me wants to believe that people could (and would want to) stay together because of things like love and loyalty. I even dare to hope that there are relationships based on fidelity and honesty.

I can't be sure how all of that may have contributed to me not seeing (or not admitting it to myself when I started to see) that Weevil displayed emotions that seemed … well, unusual for a friend or acquaintance, someone with whom I exchanged favors.

At some point when I was working on trying to find Logan's mom, Weevil and I got talking. I don't remember how it came up, but I was telling him some about the Hamilton case – nothing confidential, just some storytelling sans key identifying info. When I got to the part about my improv maneuver to bug a luxury suite at The Duke Hotel, Weevil was not happy about me putting myself in a potentially dangerous situation in order to get the job done. I assured him that I had already heard about it from my dad … so, he could save the lecture. He reminded me that he was a phone call away if I ever found myself in need of help.

It was around that time that Weevil came to me with some information about Logan's mom. He had heard a kid talking about having proof that she had jumped. I momentarily wondered why he was offering to help when I hadn't asked for a favor. In retrospect, I think he wanted the case closed as quickly as possible to keep me from spending time with Logan.

When my dad and I were on opposite sides of the Mr. Rooks case, Weevil had pulled me aside and asked me to be careful, saying that he had heard things about Rooks. I told him he shouldn't pay attention to rumors. He insisted that I promise to be cautious and to call him if I needed anything. Maybe that's why my spidey senses were so quick to tingle when I heard Mick Jagger's voice from the stereo speakers and I caught a glimpse of black silk bed linens when I was passing by the bedroom door – two things that Carrie had mentioned about Rooks.

When I spoke to Weevil a day or two later and thanked him for insisting that I be careful, he had reacted the same way he had after I told him about being locked in my trunk. Asking me, "Why the hell am I just hearing about this now?" I had to repeatedly tell him that I was fine (and that nothing had actually happened) before he finally calmed down. Again, I just kept thinking of it as protective big brother type behavior.

[

[

There was a happy little caper at Valentine's Day: I got to help Meg track down her secret admirer – though it was more enjoyable before I realized that the person leaving tokens of love for her was none other than my ex, Duncan. The thing is, I had my own secret admirer then too. Mine never came forward and he was better at covering his tracks than Duncan was.

Mostly, I received cards and handwritten notes (short and sweet, nothing elaborate). A couple of times there were flowers, too. Not store bought. Cut from someone's yard or garden. My admirer seemed to prefer to slip the notes through the vent of my locker door. When there were flowers, I would find them tucked under my windshield wiper. This guy was stealthy, unpretentious, and frugal. I can't deny that I was intrigued.

After Meg was escorted to the center of the dance floor by her Prince Charming, I decided to leave the dance early … mere moments after arriving. When I got to my car, I sat there and cried for a few minutes until there was a knock on my window. It was Weevil, who of course asked why I was crying. I didn't want to explain – not yet, anyway. I told him I just wanted to get home and change into comfy clothes, take off the jewelry and makeup – maybe even wash the obscene quantity of Aqua Net out of my hair.

As he often did, he wordlessly nodded and turned to leave. I reached out for his arm and said, "If you're not doing anything else tonight, you wanna come over?"

He responded, "V, are you asking me to be your valentine?" His tone was playful.

I shrugged. "Well, I don't have one. Do you?"

"Nope." He tilted his head and added, "But I thought you had a secret admirer?"

"How did you know about that?"

"I hear things. Got my ear to the ground."

Back at my apartment, I pointed him in the direction of the fridge and a few key cupboards. He poured drinks and got some snacks while I changed out of uncomfortable underwear and into cozy PJs. When we had gotten situated on the couch, it seemed he wanted to tell me something. Just then, my phone rang, but as had happened multiple times lately, whoever was on the other end of the line was not speaking. Weevil used *69 to call back and I was told that a blonde woman had been using a payphone in Barstow. I knew that it had to be my mom.

Weevil offered to go with me, but I said I needed to do this on my own. After giving him a kiss on the cheek as we parted in the parking lot, I said, "Raincheck?"

He just nodded, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. As I drove to Barstow, I remembered that he was about to tell me something when my mom had called. Although it made me curious, I didn't have the brain capacity to unravel that mystery right now. I needed to figure out what to do with my mom when I found her.

[

[

In March, our school mascot, Polly the parrot, was stolen. Mr. Clemmons asked me to look into it. Once the ransom video showed up threatening to kill Polly if Wallace played in the basketball game against Pan High, I would have gotten involved anyway.

I enlisted Weevil's help to question a guy who, as it turned out, did not have any useful information for me. I did however get to hang out at Rest Stop 15 with Weevil while he took bets. He did not look pleased when a few male students from Pan High greeted me with smiling faces.

"I see you made some new friends while you were hangin' out at Pan today."

"Friends?" I shook my head. "Potential thieves or sources of information is more like it."

In between his clients, Weevil and I talked. Well, mostly we flirted. By now, it was kinda our thing. We bantered and we played with fire. Today, a little more than normal, because I was pretending to be someone else. Betty. 'She' giggled, sighed, cooed, and purred more than I normally do. Weevil seemed to enjoy the roleplaying. I must admit that it was an entertaining diversion.

When it was time for me to get going, I leaned over and placed a kiss at the corner of his mouth, which probably would have been fine if I hadn't lingered there. As I slowly pulled away, I saw something flash in his eyes and suddenly his arms were around me.

We were nose to nose as he said, "This is a fun little game, _Betty_. But don't start something if you don't plan to follow through."

It was difficult for me to read his true intent. Was he flirting? Was it a warning? Was it a combination or something else entirely? Damn, but he was good. Too much experience in the interrogation room. What made matters worse was that he knew my bag of tricks, because he had been across the table from my mentor and father more times than I could count.

As he released me and I moved toward my car, he was all business as he reminded me, "Gonna get back to me about—"

I cut him off before he could finish asking. "Yeah, I should have something for you in a day or two."

Trading favors – that was our _other_ thing.

[

[

A couple days later at school, I went up to the PCHers at lunch. I thought Weevil might want to step away from the table to talk, but he didn't move. He remained seated, straddling the bench. In fact, he barely acknowledged my presence as he continued to pick at the French fries on his tray.

I sat down facing him, straddling the same bench. Now, I had his attention. "I was able to confirm the first part of your theory. I am still working on the second part." I was being purposefully vague since I did not know how much the others knew. "I'll have some time after school. You could give me a call or drop by the office, if I'm not there you can find me at my usual spot."

"Stake out at the Camelot." It wasn't a question, but rather a statement. He knew where to find me.

I nodded as I reached for a fry. He glared at me as I put it in my mouth. I gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look and said, "I'm sorry, did you want one?" I picked up another fry, dipped it in ketchup, and lifted it to his mouth. As I fed it to him, I allowed it to brush against his bottom lip on purpose. "Oh, look at that." I wiped the small red blob from his lip with my thumb and then brought it my own mouth to clean the ketchup off of it – maintaining eye contact the entire time.

Disengaging from his stare, I shifted my weight, bringing my left leg from under the table to place my knee on the bench as I came to standing on my right. I placed a hand on his shoulder to steady myself as I stood. My knee had come to rest near his crotch and my torso was directly in front of his face as I said, "Well, my work here is done."

I intended to step away from the table, but he raised his hands to my thighs, holding me in place. He slowly stood up until we were face to face and he held my body against his. He turned his head away from the guys at the table to whisper in my right ear, "What did I tell you about starting things and following through?"

Before I could reply, I heard Mr. Clemmons say from behind me, "Miss Mars, is Mr. Navarro bothering you?"

I leaned away from Weevil and looked into his eyes as I answered Mr. Clemmons. "No, sir. Actually, I was bothering him." I slid one hand under his jacket and grazed my fingertips along the side of his ribs, surprised to find myself wishing that I had more time to explore. Then, I stepped over the bench and turned to face Clemmons. I shrugged and went all wide-eyed again as I admitted my crime, "I couldn't help myself. Something so mouth-watering right within my reach?" I held out my wrists as if waiting to be handcuffed. "I'm sorry, sir. I just had to … have one of his French fries."

Clemmons looked at me, at the PCHers, and then back again. Finally, he shook his head and walked away.

I turned and winked at Weevil. "See you later."

As I walked back to my table, I could hear chatter coming from their table.

In response to their comments, Weevil said, "She's just helping us out."

Then, I heard Felix say, "Yeah, but she only gave one of us a lapdance."

[

Later at the office, Leo came by to drop off tapes of the interrogations from Lilly's murder investigation. He made copies because he was afraid that someone might notice if the originals were missing. He would do some favors for me, but he had limits, lines he would not cross.

"What do I get in exchange, Miss Mars?"

"What did you have in mind, Deputy?"

"I was thinking a dinner date."

"That sounds nice, but who are you taking?"

"Wow, I'm worse at this than I thought. Because if the girl you're asking out doesn't know you're asking her out …"

"Sorry, Leo. Not interested. But I will gladly buy you a gift certificate for the restaurant of your choice so you can take someone else." If it weren't for his place of employment and the age difference, maybe I'd think about it. Maybe. Possibly.

As he stood from the couch, the look of rejection was easy to read in his mannerisms and facial expression.

"Thanks again, Leo."

He gave a brief wave. As he disappeared into the hallway, I walked over to sit at my desk.

Just about a minute later, Weevil came through the door. "Good thing I didn't get here any earlier. I might have interrupted your date with the good Deputy."

I pulled a face at him. "He was just here to drop something off."

He nodded knowingly. "Favors. But you're not that dumb. You know he's interested in you, right?"

"If I didn't before today, I would now."

He raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

"He asked me out." I turned my attention back to the paperwork before me.

"And?" He sat in the chair across from me.

Face still down toward the desk, I responded, "I said I wasn't interested." I looked up at him without lifting my head, just moving my eyes. He looked like he was about to smile, but refused to admit it.

He leaned back in the chair, his voice neutral as he asked, "What was that today … at lunch?"

"Bartering? You got your info; I got a fry." I shrugged.

He laughed. "You know what I'm talking about, V."

"I'm just a dumb blonde. No idea what you mean."

"Whatever." He shook his head. "So did you get a chance to check out the rest of my theory?"

Shifting some files out of the way, I moved my laptop in front of me. I pulled up some photos and indicated that he should come around where he could see.

I had several photos for him to look at. "Do you recognize any of them? Anyone look familiar? If not, then I have run out of leads."

With one hand resting on the desk, he leaned over my shoulder and pointed at one guy. "Him. Yeah, I've seen him around."

He didn't sound happy, but I turned to see his face to confirm what I thought I was hearing. Sure enough, his jaw was set and he was glaring at the photo on the screen.

"Were you expecting someone else?"

"No. I don't know. Not really. Just disappointed. 'Cause this most likely means that one or more of my cousins is trying to rip off my uncle. If it's what it looks like," he put a fake smile on his face, "family dinner on Sunday is going to be great fun."

Even if his face were not next to mine, it would have been clear how much this information grieved him. His family – immediate and extended – meant the world to him.

As I placed a hand over his on the desk, I determined that I would help in any way I could. "Now what?"

"I deal with it."

"Anything I can do?"

After taking a moment, he looked as if he would answer just as my dad walked through the door of the office.

Dad stopped in his tracks in the middle of the room, choked back whatever he was about to say and instead said with a nod, "Eli."

Weevil was still leaning over my shoulder until he heard his name. He straightened to his full stature and simply acknowledged, "Sheriff." Turning to look at me, "Thanks, V" was all he said before leaving.

Dad threw a look of disapproval my way as he rushed toward his office explaining he just needed to grab something and that he would probably be home late.

I told him not to worry, that I could fend for myself. But even while I was talking, my attention was on my phone as I texted Weevil the question he had not answered: _anything I can do?_

Just as I heard him start his bike outside, my phone beeped as his reply came through: _I'll get back to you._

Dad walked back out to my desk and said, "I'm gonna ignore whatever that was just now, because I don't have time at the moment. But we will be having a talk."

He pointed at me sternly and waited for me to acknowledge what he had said – which I did … with an extreme eye roll.

[

Dad gave me a long lecture when he got home. I thought about trying to explain about mutual backscratching, but decided to save it for another time.

I thought I would hear from Weevil, but I didn't. I talked to him briefly at school. Although he seemed really stressed out, he insisted he did not need my help. So, I left it alone. Left him alone. After all, I had plenty of other things to deal with.

It was time for midterm exams, which is enough for any high school student to deal with. But on top of that, Sabrina had hired me to figure out who was messing with her and potentially screwing up her grades. Plus, I was making some headway on Lilly's murder investigation – I had tracked down the daughter of Abel Koontz.

[

[

In the middle of April, there were a few too many fire drills happening at school. After not much digging at all, I found out that the school was getting bomb threats, that the fire drills were a ruse. After a new student named Ben said some mildly disturbing things in class, I decided to have Wallace try to get his file – and I had a few questions to ask him. When I first talked with him, he was sitting with Norris at lunch. They might not be guilty of anything, but they were definitely odd.

I followed Ben one afternoon and got a call from Logan – which was both good and bad. Logan had called to give me a friendly heads-up that he had told Duncan about my files on Lilly's murder. While I was on the phone with him, Ben had climbed into my car and forced me to drive him to the Camelot.

Long story short: Logan and I assumed Ben was a bad guy; Logan punched Ben who turned out to be a federal agent undercover at our school investigating the bomb threats; Ben asked me to try to get close to Norris to see if I could help his investigation; and after I left Ben's room to rejoin Logan outside, I gave him a quick kiss as I thanked him for coming to my rescue (though it had turned out that I was in no actual danger).

Swept up in the moment and/or possibly having developed some attachment to me while I was helping him look for his mother, Logan embraced me and gave me one hell of a kiss. I was surprised, to say the least. Even as I made my way down to my car, my breathing was still ragged and my mind could not make sense of what had just happened. I just stared up at him where he stood by the railing.

What I didn't realize at the time was that Weevil had become concerned when he saw me talking to Ben and Norris at school. He had followed me when I followed Ben. He had watched everything unfold – including the kiss.

* * *

A/N:

Thanks for reading! Until next time ...

~Jen

8 July 2016


	6. Chapter 6: S1 Ep18 cont

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Chapter 6 continues modified version of #1.18 "Weapons of Class Destruction"

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

After leaving the parking lot at The Camelot, I drove about a block before I pulled my car over to the curb. I rested my head against the steering wheel and concentrated on steadying my breathing.

My brain was trying to sort out too many things: bomb threats, undercover agents, the boyfriend of my dead best friend had just kissed me ... I kept getting stuck there. He kissed me. Seriously! I didn't know what that was about or what I was going to do about it, but I did not have the time right now to think about it.

Just before pulling back out into traffic, I put the radio on and found a song that would help clear my head. It took a few miles worth of songs before "the kiss" was just one more thing on my list. My long list of things to deal with.

I was on my way over to talk to Norris when my phone rang. I looked at the screen and seeing Weevil's name, I answered it.

There was no emotion in his voice as he asked, "What are you up to?"

"I'm in the middle of investigating something."

"Anything I can do?"

"No. I'm just heading to Norris Clayton's house. I need to ask him a couple questions. Then, I'm heading home."

"Norris Clayton? Why?"

"Tracking down a lead that has to do with all the fire drills we've been having." He didn't say anything right away and I was almost at the house, so I abruptly asked, "Can I call you when I get home?"

"Yeah, whatever."

I sat for a moment looking at my phone. He had sounded angry, but I had no idea why.

[

When I got home, Weevil was waiting for me in the parking lot.

The words he spoke were: "Could we go somewhere and talk?" But it wasn't really a question. Something less than a demand, but definitely more than a request.

He handed me a helmet and we rode his bike to the beach.

When we arrived, he turned off the engine, but he made no move to get off the motorcycle. His whole body was rigid. Removing my helmet, I moved to stand next to him, where I could see his face. He would not meet my eyes.

"What's wrong?" When he didn't answer me, I said, "Weevil, talk to me. You're scaring me."

He turned his head so quickly, it made me jump as he spat these words at me, "What are we doing here, V? What is this?" He gestured back and forth between the two of us.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Not that long ago, you ... pulled that stunt with the French fry." While he spoke, he was clenching and unclenching his hands. "Then, your dad glares at me for being in your office and after that … I don't hear from you, you don't talk to me."

"Wait a minute, I checked with you to see if I could help out – you know, the thing with your uncle. You all but told me to keep my nose out of it. From where I'm standing, you stopped talking to me."

Turning his eyes down to his hands, he was quiet a minute – trying, but failing to calm down. When he raised his head, he did not look at me, but out at the ocean. "I saw you today. After you left school, following that new kid. And then, at the Camelot." He paused to let that sink in. Turning to see my eyes, he said coldly, "You and Logan. You know, maybe you're more like Lilly than I thought." He shook his head, rubbing his hand back and forth over his mouth and jaw.

The anger seemed to roll off him in waves. Yet, he kept it controlled.

Better than I did, anyway. The words leapt from my lips. "What the hell?" I didn't know how else to respond to what he had just said.

Part of me was angry and defensive, but I wasn't sure why. Another part of me was trying to figure out what this was really about. And part of me was trying to figure out how to get this to deescalate from DEFCON 2.

My brain was incredibly busy while my mouth tried to find words for something I hadn't sorted through yet. "I did not kiss him. Well, I mean I gave him a quick peck when I was thanking him, but what I think you're talking about – that kiss – that was his idea, not mine."

"You didn't stop him."

"Well, no, I didn't. He caught me off-guard. But after Ben had gotten in my car with a gun and made me drive to the Camelot … and then, the stuff he told me – well, my brain was on overload."

"Wait – what? He had a gun?"

"Yeah! Though I guess you couldn't see that from where you were."

"No. I saw him get in your car and I followed. When he was pulling you up the stairs, I was about to ... but well, Logan beat me to the punch."

"Literally."

"Yeah. Then, I just watched. The three of you talking, then going into a room. Care to explain?"

"I'd love to, but I'm not sure I'm allowed to. At least, for right now. But I can almost guarantee that it's not whatever you're thinking."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because it wasn't what I thought was." Seeing that he expected some kind of explanation, I continued, "While investigating one thing and I stumbled on another. I was on the phone with Logan when Ben got in my car and he heard that Ben wanted me to take him to the Camelot. That's why Logan was waiting when we got there. He thought I was in danger. But I wasn't." I paused for a few seconds. "Can we get back to the real conversation here? What are you so angry about?"

He just looked at me. His anger had begun to dissipate. With softer eyes, he tried to tell me everything he couldn't quite put into words.

Then, the pieces started to fall into place. His jealous anger provoked by several things – Logan kissing me, me spending time with other guys, not talking to him in recent days, my dad's displeasure over him being at the office with me. Add to that: him feeling so protective of me, him warning me not to start something without following through, and somewhere in the midst of it all, his fear that someone else would treat him the way that Lilly had.

As realization began to show on my face, he looked away.

"Weevil," was all I could say at first. Then, I placed a hand on the sleeve of his jacket and said, "Please, look at me."

I wasn't sure how hard to push. I didn't feel like I knew him well enough to know the subtleties of his personality.

Reaching across his body, I placed a hand on the opposite side of his face, hoping to gently turn it toward mine. He resisted.

I let my hand slide around to the back of his neck. He dropped his head, but did not move away from my touch.

Softly, I tried again, this time saying, "Eli."

I felt some of the tension release. He raised his head just enough to look at me out of the corner of his eye.

Holding his face with both my hands, I brought his forehead to touch mine. We just leaned into one another.

In that moment, with that connection – I felt everything he couldn't say.

Then, I kissed his forehead and asked, "Are you still angry?"

He let out a small, soft laugh – almost a sigh. "No."

In that instant, with that sound, everything shifted.

I knew that I liked to go for long drives when I had thinking to do. I had to imagine that he felt the same about being on his bike, alone with his thoughts. Maybe, he'd let me go along for the ride this time.

"I've got about an hour before I really need to be home. How about taking me for a ride? You, me, open road – any of this sound appealing?"

He just smiled as he put his helmet back on. That was the only answer I was going to get. Not so much with the words sometimes. Man, when they named 'the strong, silent type' – they knew what they were talking about.

No surprise that he headed for SR 1, a.k.a. the Pacific Coast Highway. The view was beautiful. The solitary silence was wonderful. But the part that so amazing, the part of it that I would miss the moment I got home … was leaning against him, feeling him breathe, sensing all the previous tension drop away as he became one with the bike and the road … with me along for the ride.

Somehow, with a nudge from me and some quality time on his motorcycle, he had gotten himself from livid to serene.

When he dropped me off at home, I started to give the helmet back to him. He suggested that I hold on to it.

[

As I watched him ride off, I realized that there was a lot we had covered without really talking about it.

And yet, that elephant in the room would at some point have to be identified and discussed. For now, I would file it under P for pachyderm predicament.

* * *

A/N:

Thanks for reading! Until next time ...

~Jen

5 August 2016


	7. Chapter 7: S1 Ep19

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Chapter 7 occurs during modified version of #1.19 "Hot Dogs"

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

After our talk at the beach and non-talk on his bike, we didn't really talk about that proverbial pachyderm.

We would chat in the parking lot at school. He would drop by my locker to say hello.

He mentioned falling behind in a couple classes – so I offered to tutor him, if he could come by the office on nights I had to be there.

It's not as if we didn't talk or spend any time together. We just didn't have _that_ talk.

There was no tension or weirdness. But there was also no urgency to establish whatever this thing between us was.

We fell into a comfortable rhythm. Not just friends. But not a couple either.

I wondered how long we could stay in this comfortable limbo before a catalyst caused a reaction in our chemistry.

[

[

During one busy week, I was helping Logan track down his sister's new boyfriend while also assisting a classmate find her missing dog. Duncan had gone missing, too – which was bad for a couple of reasons, but the primary one was that there was a chance that he could be the one who killed Lilly.

One evening, I was at the office tutoring Weevil since he had a math quiz coming up. When Dad walked in, he was less than thrilled to see who I was spending time with. They did their typical name exchange: "Eli" followed by "Sheriff." Then, Dad just kept looking at him until he got up to leave.

I gave Dad my best "Really?" glare. Then, I followed Weevil out into the hallway.

Catching up to him, I said, "You're gonna do fine on the quiz. Just remember to do the easy ones first, the ones that look familiar – get all the points you can. Then, go back and try to work the ones that give you trouble. Take your time and check your work."

"Yes, _mom_." His voice filled with sarcasm. But when he saw the look in my eyes, he said, "Sorry, V. I know you mean well, but I think it may be a lost cause."

" _You_ are not a lost cause, Eli Navarro. Just go ask your grandmother. She will back me up on this. And you don't want to mess with the two of us." I poked my index finger into his chest.

"Got that right." He nodded and said his habitual "Thanks, V," as he turned to go.

When I walked back into the office, my dad started in on me about having Weevil there. I explained that he had done a few favors for me and I was just trying to help him out.

I added, "At least if he's here, you know he's not out there committing a crime."

As it turns out, I was more right than I knew. Because soon after he left our building, he was caught breaking into the Kane house. Actually, he was in Lilly's bedroom.

[

When I went to visit Weevil at the station, I had a brief and mildly awkward conversation with Leo who mentioned that, among other things, Weevil had a big pink pen on him when he was brought in.

On the drive over, I had thought through how to handle this conversation with Weevil, but I now found myself about to walk through the door to the holding cells … and I was at a complete loss as to how to approach this situation, how to approach him.

He was on the cot in his cell as I walked toward the bars.

"Hey," was all I could manage to say.

"Wow, spent a long time thinking about what you wanted to say to me. Huh?"

In the most neutral voice I could muster, I said, "I'm here, aren't I?" With a tilt of my head and my best Southern drawl, I added, "What's a sweet guy like you doing in a place like this?"

"Waiting for you, _darlin'_."

"Seriously, Weevil. One minute, you're at our office calculating 5% commission on the sale of a house. Then, the next you're …"

"What, V? Say it. Just say what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking several things. I'm not sure however what I believe. So I don't know what you want me to say." He remained silent, so I continued, "Okay, a direct question for you: what were you doing in Lilly's bedroom? I don't believe it was random B&E."

He stood and walked over to me. "Straight answer?"

"That would be lovely."

"You know about the letters I wrote her." He paused as I nodded that I remembered. "Well, we also used to pass messages to one another using a kiddie spy pen that—"

"That she found in her cereal box," I said as I recalled how excited she had been that morning in the car.

"She told you about it?"

"About the pen, but not who she was exchanging secret messages with. Okay, so what about it?"

"I probably should have tried to get it a long time ago or just left it, but with Duncan taking off … it got me thinking about stuff. And well, if they ever searched her room again, I didn't want them finding any notes."

"You broke in to steal a pen? A stupid worthless plastic pen? Was it worth it … you know, getting arrested for that?" When he didn't respond, she asked, "Is there a note in it?"

"There was when I found it."

"But not now?"

"Nope. Gone."

"Then, you're an idiot."

"What?"

"You heard me. You're an idiot." I stepped right up to the bars and said, "Just tell them that that's what you went in to get. They have the pen along with whatever else you had on you. It's not the kind of thing anyone would expect you to have under normal circumstances. If you tell them you wanted it for sentimental reasons, then the fact that you had a relationship with Lilly would have to be brought up. I'm sure there's plenty of evidence of that in files from the murder investigation. You try that approach and I bet they drop the charges. They wouldn't want all that getting aired in court – the fact that their daughter was sleeping with you."

"V." He looked at me with an expression that was part surprise, part relief, part worry. "I can't believe you're being so calm about this."

I did not directly respond to his concern. "I'm gonna go talk to Cliff and see if we can set this plan in motion."

[

[

It worked pretty much the way I expected. Cliff made a big fuss about how Weevil wanted his day in court and an opportunity to say that all he wanted was a memento of his relationship with Lilly. The fact that Lilly's prints were on the pen helped Weevil's case. Also, the fact that neither the security guards nor the cops had found anything of any value on his person at the time of his arrest. His explanation was more than plausible – hell, it was downright true. The Kanes had backed down pretty quickly. They were tired of scandal. And they had enough to worry about with Duncan missing.

[

After he was released, his first stop was home to see his grandma. Also, a shower and a change of clothes.

His next stop was my doorstep.

When I opened the door, he stood there with his head hanging down, both hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans.

"Hey, there," he said.

Recalling his comment to me at the station, I replied, "Spent a long time on that, did you?"

"Yeah, so … thanks for coming up with that idea."

"You mean telling the truth? Revolutionary idea. It might just catch on."

"Anyway, Cliff worked some kind of magic with the Kanes and poof! It's like it never happened."

"I'm glad it worked out." I was still standing in the doorway – leaning on the doorframe with one hand, holding onto the knob with the other.

He sighed and rubbed a hand nervously on the back of his head and neck. "So, I blew it, right? I mean, your dad's not happy to see my face even if it's stuck in a math textbook. You got Leo, Logan, Norris, and whoever else interested in you. Now this. I assume any chance I had is gone."

I didn't know what to say to that. I just pulled him into a hug and we stood there a while.

After releasing my hold on him, I said, "I was about to take a study break – make some popcorn, watch some tv. Would you like to join me?"

He seemed genuinely surprised by my invitation.

I stepped back through the doorway and opened the door wide, allowing him to enter.

We sat on the couch while some 30-year-old movie played on TBS. We weren't really watching it. We weren't talking either. Just sitting quietly – not unlike riding on his motorcycle together.

About half an hour later, Dad came home. He didn't seem surprised to see my guest. He nodded as he said, "Eli. Cliff told me you were released." He glanced at me in a way that told me he knew my part in all of this. Then, he said to Weevil, "Word of advice? Next time, don't risk your future for a plastic memento." He had nothing else to say as he walked back to his room.

Another half hour later, Weevil had fallen asleep on my shoulder and I did not have the heart to wake him. I pulled out my phone and started to make a list of things I needed to do in the next week – trying to be productive without moving.

My dad walked out to get something in the kitchen and glanced over at us. Really, he came out to check on us and the whole kitchen thing was a smoke screen. He's not kidding anyone but himself.

He walked toward me and said softly, "I don't like it."

"Oh Dad, let it go. It's not like he's 'pinned me' or anything. Well, okay, I am stuck here on this couch right now, but you know what I mean."

"But…"

"But nothing. Look, Dad – he's here."

"And by that you mean?"

"Well … 1) he was willing to face you and 2) he's not out committing a crime. He's here – asleep on our couch." I did as much of a Vanna White gesture as I could without jostling the sleeping gang member. "And look at that face. So sweet. So vulnerable. I mean I'm more dangerous to him right now than he is to me."

My dad rolled his eyes at that. Then, he raised his hands in mock defeat before saying, "I need to go out for about an hour. No wild parties while I'm gone." That last sentence was punctuated by a finger point and a pointed look.

But what he really meant was: he wasn't too sure about leaving me alone with Weevil.

While I was talking with my Dad, I had felt Weevil's breathing change. After Dad left, I whispered, "You're awake. Aren't you?"

A soft "Mm-hmm" was the response I was given.

We adjusted position to get a little more comfortable, bumping into one another as we settled in. He took that physical contact as an invitation to tickle me. Nothing much, mind you – just some feather light touches here and there. He seemed to be trying to suss out where my ticklish spots were. Every once in a while, he'd stumble upon an area that made me uncomfortable. He would feel me stiffen up and he'd reacquaint himself with my comfort zones.

The movie ended before Dad returned. As the credits began, Weevil started to move. "I should get going. And you should go back to studying or whatever you were working on when I got here."

Eyeing him suspiciously, I said, "Are you trying to get on my father's good side?"

"Does he have one? And if he does, can you tell me where it is?" he responded, only half joking.

I walked him to the door and started to say something when he cut me off with a question.

"If I gave you a goodnight kiss, would I risk getting tasered?"

"It's not like I have my taser on me."

He smiled at me nervously. "I'm being serious, V."

"The thing is, if you're interested in me because you've heard all the stories about me that ... although they sound _fun_ , could hardly be called _facts_ … well, you will be incredibly disappointed. 'Cause that girl – whoever it is they're talking about – is not me. Not at all. Not even a little bit. Just wanted to get that straight."

"Thanks for clearing that up, but that's not why I'm interested in you."

My only response was to take a step forward.

His movement was smooth and assured as he put one hand on the back of my head and the other on the small of my back, pulling me toward him slowly and deliberately. His grasp on me was firm but gentle – as were his lips, when he finally made contact. The kiss lasted long enough for his hand to get tangled in my hair and for me to get lightheaded. His other hand migrated down the back of my jeans. I half expected him to lift me up and press me against the wall. Part of me was a little disappointed when he didn't. Mostly, I was just enjoying the feeling of being enveloped by him.

After he stopped kissing me, he pressed his forehead to mine and just stood there for a moment – inhaling and exhaling in the most peaceful, contented way. He placed a tender kiss near my temple and whispered, "Goodnight, Veronica."

When I shut the door, I leaned back against it and closed my eyes. I could still feel the warmth of his touch, the pressure of his lips on mine. Good gracious – that boy could seriously kiss!

As I was getting ready for bed, I took off my jeans and checked the pockets. I found a note in the back pocket that read: _Have you figured it out yet?_

I pulled out the cards and notes I had received back in February and compared the handwriting.

Picking up my phone, I called Weevil. "So ... I found a note in my pocket. Any idea how that got there?"

He replied, "Wow! You must have been really distracted to not notice someone putting something in your back pocket."

"I never said _back_ pocket. But yeah, I was … a bit distracted," I admitted. But he definitely had my attention now.

* * *

A/N:

Thanks for reading! Until next time ...

~Jen

11 September 2016


	8. Chapter 8: S1 Ep20

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

This chapter is my modification of #1.20 "M.A.D." This is a more detailed retelling of the episode than has been the norm in this fic – in order to give context for some subtle changes in timeline, lines reassigned to different characters, etc.

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

In my line of work – well, my father's line of work – I see a lot. And very little surprises me. There are recurring themes. One of the most common: people have secrets. Some secrets they use against others. Some they plan to take to the grave. Some they keep only as long as necessary.

But of this I am certain: secrets have a way of being revealed.

[

[

The next morning at school, I was attempting to repair the Le Baron. Weevil spotted me from across the parking lot and walked over to offer his assistance.

"Car trouble, miss?"

"You wouldn't happen to have a knife on you?" I inquired hopefully.

He handed me his pocket knife and watched as I cut off a damaged section at the end of a hose and then reattached it. He nodded his approval as I passed the knife back to him.

"Thanks" was all I said, but my mind was swimming with thoughts.

"So … about last night …" Weevil's eyes tried to communicate his intent.

"Are you looking for the words 'we need to talk'?"

"Something like that."

While shutting the hood of my car, I said, "Meet me in the bathroom during first period?"

[

I handed in my assignment in my first class and then asked the teacher if I could go see the nurse. When I turned the corner to walk down the hall toward the bathroom, I saw him standing there – leaning against the wall, looking a little too nonchalant. I nodded as I passed by Weevil to go through the door, putting a sign on it as I crossed the threshold. After checking to be certain all the stalls were empty, I opened the door, grabbed his arm, and pulled him in.

"My fantasy of a blonde pulling me into the girls' room? Guess I can check that off my bucket list."

I wedged a doorstop under the door to help ensure our privacy and then turned to face him. Our eyes were locked on each other as he took a step toward me.

Trying to remain cool, I tilted my head and said, "You're the one who wanted to talk. So talk."

"I'd be just as happy to _not_ talk." He let his words hang between us. "Something changed last night. I just wanted to hear you acknowledge that." A wicked grin played at the corner of his mouth.

"I do not deny it." I _may_ have batted my eyelashes. I swear, it was unintentional.

"And I figured we should talk about how we're gonna … handle things."

"Like, are we going public with this?"

He cleared his throat. "For starters, yeah."

In spite of the playful tone of the conversation, I gave him a serious look. "Well, you have … business to attend to. And I have things to do too – working on cases and keeping up my GPA. So it's not like we can spend every minute together doing the boyfriend-girlfriend thing."

"Boyfriend? Girlfriend?" His face conveyed that he was stunned by my word choice; his voice was thick with sarcasm.

Our proximity was becoming intense. I disengaged and walked toward the middle of the room. "You know what I mean. High school girl hanging on some boy's arm, giggling at everything he says."

"Yes, I do know what you mean, _Betty_."

A small laugh escaped my lips as I lowered my eyes and shook my head. "Anyway … it's not like either of us have time for that and besides … 'til we figure out what this is, it's probably better to keep it to ourselves. For now, anyway."

"But not forever …" The sentence was open-ended – equal parts uncertain statement and hopeful question.

"No, not forever." I allowed his eyes to see past my normal mask, momentary transparency to reassure him.

"What about the Sheriff?" His voice betrayed his concern as he moved in my direction.

Smiling, I reached out to take his hand. "Let me worry about my dad."

"And Wallace?"

Honestly, wasn't sure how to answer that, so I didn't. I pulled him toward me. "What about your family and friends? They gonna be okay with this?" My hands moved up his forearms to his biceps.

Wrapping his arms around me, he walked us toward the counter and then lifted me onto the ledge. Brushing my hair back from my face, he assured me, "You let me worry about them."

"Deal."

His hands moved down to my thighs, which he stood between. The warmth of his hands on me and the tingles brought on by that contact – if this went on very long, it would probably become dizzying. Impulsively, I leaned in to kiss him. He abruptly stopped when he heard someone walking toward the door.

"What? I blockaded the door. I hung an 'Out of Order' sign," I teased.

"No, this is wrong. I mean a boy in a girls' bathroom? It's just …"

"So wrong it's right?"

"Yes."

This time, he kissed me. And what a kiss it was. He began tentatively, testing the water. He was hungry, but patient. Insistent and methodical. And I was a goner.

At almost the same instant, I moaned and he groaned.

He pulled away and sighed. In a tone of mock responsibility, he said, "I am beyond tardy for class. If I remember right, time travel is not yet possible."

"So try petty corruption." I reached into my back pocket. "Tardy excuse slips: date-stamped, untraceable. I know people."

"What? Now you're trying to corrupt me?"

I rolled my eyes as I moved toward the door. After peeking into the hallway, I declared, "It's clear. You should get going. Business to attend to and all that."

"But I have _unfinished_ business … with you." His lips found their way to mine. And I found them to be soft and inviting … and distracting.

I placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him to arm's length. "Well, sir, that will have to wait for another time."

"Another? I like the sound of that." Just before leaving, he added, "For the record, I like it better like this – when the flirting leads somewhere." He tapped the 'Out of Order' sign as he went.

I let out a sigh as I thought: _Okay, Veronica. Focus! You have things to do … like cool down._

I couldn't help laughing at myself. It's a good thing that nobody could hear my thoughts. I mean if my internal monologue played like a running commentary as a voiceover in the style of old detective movies … well, people might be a little frightened. And I would be a lot embarrassed.

[

That would not be the only meeting I would hold in my "office" that morning. Carmen had pulled me aside whispering a request for help while tears rolled down her cheeks.

As I got a roll of toilet paper for her to dry her face, she began to tell me about a conversation she had with her boyfriend earlier. She wanted to break up with Tad – for several reasons, but the primary reason she gave him was that she did not want to have a long-distance relationship when he left for the Naval Academy. When he couldn't sweet talk her into staying with him, he pulled out his cellphone and played a video – his attempt to _persuade_ her to reconsider.

I asked a few questions to gather information. Carmen explained that she did not remember doing the things she saw herself doing in the video – skinny dipping in a hot tub and … well, she implied that she was demonstrating her technique on a popsicle. She was mortified and begged me to get his phone. I assumed she wanted to destroy the video.

Not long after that, I was walking down the hallway with Wallace. We talked about the weirdness of our parents dating – in part, the fact that they were so giddy and happy about dating again; in part, because of _who_ they were dating. It was just strange beyond words for your parent to be dating your best friend's parent. But enough about that for now.

I asked Wallace to do me two favors: 1) help me with a bump and bait (dropping a disposable cellphone in Tad's backpack) and 2) call the number of said phone in the middle of sixth period.

Having gotten out of my sixth period class, I went to the room where Tad was in study hall. Pretending to be talking on yet another disposable phone, I attracted the attention and disciplinary wrath of Mr. Wu, who put the phone in his desk drawer where it would remain until the end of the day. Wallace was good to his word and called the number I gave him. When Tad's backpack rang, he reached inside to prove to Mr. Wu that his phone was off, grabbing for his own phone … which was confiscated and put beside mine in the desk drawer.

All I had to do after that was get out of last period early and pick up Tad's phone instead of the disposable I had carried into study hall. I was all sweetness and light as I told my teacher that I had volunteered to separate the recycling from the cafeteria trash. And I was now in possession of Tad's phone – complete with the tasteless video of Carmen.

[

After school, I went to the office to see what Dad needed help with on this particular day. He proceeded to tell me about the $50,000 reward the Kane family was offering for locating Duncan. Dad seemed to think the most difficult part would be beating the other pros, but I had to break it to him that Duncan had heard some helpful hints straight from my mouth. It might not be as easy as he thought.

I was in the process of volunteering Mac's computer prowess to help track down any passports purchased on eBay when Wallace's mom, Alicia, came strolling into the office. A moment later, the two of them strolled out – for an evening of … I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

While Dad was out, Carmen dropped by the office to check on my progress. She was convinced that Tad would not have had the forethought to make a copy of the video. But shortly after she smashed his phone – thinking it would destroy the only existing copy – an email showed up in my inbox from "Top Gun" with the subject heading: nice try. I opened the email which was clearly from Tad. A video loaded and then played. In her shock at seeing it again, Carmen let it play longer than she probably intended. Carmen paused the video and then quickly left the office, mumbling about having a lot to think over.

When the door closed behind her, I looked back at my computer screen and realized that the background of the shot looked familiar.

I remembered those stars and Chinese lamps. In fact, they were about the only things I remembered from that night. A year and a half ago, Shelly Pomroy had a party. Could it be that the night Carmen gave her boyfriend a sex show in the hot tub that she can't remember was the same night that I was raped in a guest bedroom?

[

Later that evening, I was stretched out on my bed – book in front of me, though not really studying; music in the cd player, though not really listening.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Weevil.

 _Busy?_

 _Studying_

 _Got time to talk?_

I almost said no, because I really didn't want to talk to anyone right now. But I sent this reply instead: _yeah_.

A few seconds later, I answered his call with the greeting: "Hey there."

"After we talked this morning, I didn't see you the rest of the day."

"I was around."

"I'm sure you were. I just … wanted to hear your voice."

If he kept being this sweet, it would become difficult to avoid him while I sorted all this out.

"V? You there?"

"Yeah. Long day. Not really up for chitchat."

"Okay. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I have something to take care of in the morning, but lunch, maybe."

"We could share some French fries again."

I had to smile at that – thinking back on the day I flirtatiously fed him a fry. "I'd enjoy that."

"So would I. G'night, V."

[

[

The next morning, I met up with Mac to ask two favors: 1) to see if she could work her digital magic and tell me when the video of Carmen was recorded and 2) to figure out if any passports were sold on auction sites and shipped anywhere near Neptune.

The result of the first request came faster than the second. It took Mac mere seconds to pull up the info on my screen. _Created: Sunday, December 7, 2003 at 3:23 AM_. That confirmed it – Carmen and I did not remember the same night. That couldn't be a coincidence.

On my way into school, I had seen Carmen with Tad's arms wrapped around her. Clearly, she made the decision to give in to his blackmail – stay with him or he'd email the video to the entire school. Their reunion would be short-lived. All it took was Tad putting his lowlife character on display in the commons and Carmen was already disgusted with herself for getting back together with him. That's when I suggested that she needed an exit strategy. More precisely: Mutually Assured Destruction. Since she said I wouldn't find any dirt on him, I hatched a plan to fabricate something that would prevent him from sending out the video.

[

At lunchtime, I got my food, but as I walked toward the tables, I realized I didn't want to be anywhere near anyone who might have been at Shelly's party. When I passed the PCH table, Weevil gave me a long sultry look – flirtatious and full of challenge – that would have seemed perfectly ordinary to his friends. Under normal circumstances, I would have returned fire, but not today. I didn't mean to blow him off. Not exactly. It's just that I was still processing new info related to the night I was raped. I wasn't really in the mood to socialize – not even with Wallace or Weevil. Not right now, anyway.

So, I walked straight past Weevil and made a brief pause next to Wallace to say I had something to deal with. I proceeded around the corner of a building to find a place to sit alone with my thoughts – or to not think at all.

A few minutes later, Weevil stepped around that same corner. When I first looked up at him, he seemed ready to pick a fight with me about ignoring him, but his face softened as he took in my mood.

"What's going on? You alright?" When I didn't reply, he added another question. "Something I did? … or didn't do?"

I shook my head and patted the spot next to me, inviting him to sit. "No, this has nothing to do with you."

"Well, if it has something to do with you, then it has something to do with me." He paused. "Still didn't answer my first question."

"Short answer … it's a long story. One which I will tell you … eventually, but not now." That was clearly not enough of an answer to satisfy him. "Something happened a while ago. I just got some new information. I wasn't okay when it happened. I'm better now. I'll be even better when I find out the whole truth." I watched him as he studied me.

"You wanna be alone? Or …?"

"I guess I wouldn't mind some company."

He leaned toward me, bumping his shoulder into mine. Then, he took a French fry from my tray, dipped it in ketchup, fed it to me, and then kissed the ketchup from my lips.

We canoodled for a couple minutes before I turned my full attention to my lunch, which was quickly getting cold while I was getting hot and bothered. None too soon. A moment after we stopped kissing, Felix came around the corner looking for Weevil.

"Hey, Weevs, glad I found you. The guys were wanting to finish … that talk."

"Yeah, man. I'll be right there. I got a little business to finish here." When Felix didn't move right away, Weevil said, "Give me a minute?"

But it wasn't really a question. It was an order given by a gang leader to a gang member. Before going, Felix took a second to look at me as if he was trying to figure out why Weevil was there with me.

Weevil leaned over to kiss my cheek and whisper in my ear, "Sorry about that."

"No problem. Duty calls."

[

The latter half of the day was fairly uneventful, due in large part to my BFF. With more than a little help from Wallace, I managed to duck Logan, who was making me uncomfortable lately. Since that day at the Camelot when he punched the federal agent and kissed me, he seemed to be following me. It's possible I was just being paranoid. But for the time being, I planned to use evasive maneuvers.

[

After school, I went to the shop Weevil's uncle owned. He spotted me immediately and made a beeline for my car while wiping his hands on a cloth and trying to appear casual.

"What are you doin' here? You miss me?"

The only response I gave to the second question was a smile. "Alternator trouble. Think your uncle can return the Le Baron to all its original glory?"

"He could get it ready for Daytona if you pay him enough."

"That won't be necessary."

Then, he pulled me aside. "Word is the Kanes are offering a nice little reward to find Duncan."

"You pick up some leads when you broke into the Kane house?"

"I just heard something I thought might be worth say … ten percent of your finder's fee."

"Ten percent? Depends on what that something is." I had to admit I really hoped his info was good. Dad and I could use a lead right now.

"How 'bout a certain _spoiled white boy_ bought a crapped-out Impala from my uncle's friend a few weeks back?"

I tried (but failed) to ignore the trace of jealousy and disgust as he used words to describe my ex-boyfriend. This lead could be big, but I needed to be in business mode … not thinking about how much I wanted to kiss him right now. Part of me was beginning to understand Yolanda's comment about jealous men.

Looking at the license plate number written on the piece of paper he handed me, I said, "Eight per cent … if it pans out. And you throw in that alternator."

"Alright." His expression and tone changed from work to play. "If you don't mind waiting an hour, I can give you a ride ... if you need one."

"Actually, that'd be great."

"There's a couch in the waiting room, if you want to sit down and study or whatever."

"Thanks." As I watched him walk away, I pulled out my phone. "Hey, Dad, you got a pen?" When I finished talking to him, I texted Carmen and let her know when to expect me.

As promised, an hour later Weevil was ready to give me a ride. I was headed to the boardwalk to take photos of Carmen and Tad's afternoon together. She got him drunk and got him to do things that could be used against him later.

Walking to the parking lot to meet Weevil for my ride home, I called Dad to check on dinner plans. He informed me that he had gotten a tip – the car Duncan bought was seen outside Tijuana.

Back at my apartment complex, I asked Weevil if he wanted to stay for dinner. I didn't really feel like eating alone.

While I was cooking, I asked, "Do you think this thing will ever get more normal?"

"What ... like, will we ever hang at the mall and hold hands … and buy each other teddy bears with little hearts that say 'I wuv you beary much'?"

Thinking about my time at the boardwalk today, I replied, "Yes, exactly that. Except I want my bear won through some sort of demonstration of ring tossing ability."

"Well, this will have to do for now." He took a step – which was all the distance that separated us at that moment – and gave me a kiss that scrambled my brain.

Not long after we ate, his phone started beeping and he had to leave to meet up with the boys. Probably safer that way. He would definitely be a distraction – a delightfully, delicious, dessert-like distraction. And I had things to do.

[

[

Dad called me the next day to tell me he found the car but not Duncan. The car was left outside a bus station with a sign that said _coche gratis_. For now anyway, he was staying one step ahead of us.

I walked into the computer lab to talk to Mac. She informed me that she was still working the passport angle, but the real reason I had sought her out today was to have her create a highly incriminating, thoroughly libelous, sexually explicit website.

"Here's the ammo. Seth will help you with the rest." I gestured to the accomplice beside me. He had been all too willing help retaliate after the bullying Tad and his friends had aimed at him.

When I stepped back out into the hallway, Weevil was waiting there to talk to me.

Taking me by the elbow, he led me to an unoccupied room. "I just heard that you are, uh … helping Carmen deal with the Tad situation." His face was hard as stone and I was unable to read the tone in his voice.

"What exactly did you hear?" It was automatic for me to assess how much information someone already had.

"Not much. One of the guys – his sister is friends with Carmen – he mentioned that he was surprised that you were helping someone from our neighborhood. I reminded him that you had helped us out before and I didn't find it surprising at all." Seeing the look on my face, he added, "I get the feeling there's more going on. What are you not telling me?"

"What do you know about what Tad has done?"

"Just heard something about him trying to blackmail her into staying with him. That true?"

"Yeah. But I think we've got it taken care of. Well, we will by tomorrow."

That seemed to appease him, for the moment anyway.

[

[

The next day, Tad joined Carmen and I for a little chat. I explained that he and Carmen were broken up, effective immediately. He seemed confused because they had shared what he considered to be an amazing afternoon on the boardwalk, he had gotten a tattoo, and they had a provocative phone conversation later that night.

That's when I showed him the webpage that Mac had made: "Our Precious Secret" complete with photos of he and Seth talking at the boardwalk; a love song Tad had written for Carmen but now appeared it was intended for Seth; doctored photo booth pics with Seth's face in place of Carmen's; and the _piece de resistance_ : the phone conversation from the night before now had Seth's voice inserted when Carmen had been speaking – talking about the erotic experiment they planned for prom night.

Tad pretended like it didn't matter to him since the school year was almost over, but when I let him know that I was able to get the email addresses of every plebe at Annapolis, he seemed to rethink his cocky attitude.

My closing statement: "The Navy's got that 'don't ask, don't tell' thing. If we tell, they're gonna ask. Mutually assured destruction. Think hard, Tad."

As we walked away, Carmen added, "I don't ever want to speak to you again."

[

At the end of the school day, I headed to get in line for the bus home. I heard someone whistle. Out of curiosity, I turned my head to look. Much to my surprise, Weevil was leaning against my car, which looked much shinier than it did when I took it in for repairs.

I tilted my head and smiled at him. Finally, my feet began to walk toward the Le Baron. "How did this get here?"

"I have my ways." Weevil chuckled and his eyes lit up.

I could get used to that combination of sight and sound. "Thanks, but isn't this a little … I don't know … conspicuous?"

"Most everyone knows we do favors for each other. Let 'em think I owed you. I don't care. Totally worth it to see your smile when you looked over here."

I smiled even wider which caused me to self-consciously cover my mouth with my hand. "Well for starters, you had that whole Jake Ryan vibe going on. You know, at the end of Sixteen Candles? And also, I love it when my car is freshly washed. So, you had me at shiny wax job."

His expression shifted to serious as he reached into the car and handed me a newspaper. "Look, I'm not sure exactly what this means, but my uncle saw something in the paper. I thought I should show it to you in case you didn't know."

I looked down to read the section he pointed out:

 _Notice of Service_

 _Seeking Lianne Mars_

 _Please contact this number immediately_

 _Legal proceedings have begun in your name_

 _555-0166_

All I could say was: "Oh, my God."

Weevil drove my car toward the office of Mars Investigations while I stared in shock at the newspaper. I called Cliff to find out why someone would run an ad like that. He explained that it could be for several reasons, but the one that hit closest to home was the fact that under California law you have to run a notice for seven days before you can file for divorce on grounds of abandonment.

When we got to the office, Weevil sat quietly while I got on the Neptune Register website to see how many days the ad had run. Today was day six. Without hesitating, I called the classified department at the paper and playing the role of Keith Mars' assistant, requested that the ad not be run the next day. However, I needed to be able to provide his account password for them to comply with my request. Obviously, I did not have that piece of information.

I decided instead to see what Dad was up to this fine evening. Weevil came along as I tracked my dad's cellphone to The Hotel Dunes.

We had both been quiet for a while when Weevil asked, "I'm guessing that being up front with you from the beginning is the way you prefer it? Otherwise, I should expect to get followed?"

"Only in the most extreme circumstances. I am _capable_ of respecting someone's privacy. But when a person goes to great lengths to deceive me, it makes me wonder what they have to hide."

"Duly noted."

He waited in the car while I went in and checked with the reception desk if they had anyone by the name Mars or Fennel staying with them. Just as I was about to leave, I heard music coming from the ballroom adjacent to the lobby. I peeked in and saw what looked like a ballroom dance class.

There in the middle of the dance floor were Alicia and Dad. And at that moment, I got it. I finally got it. My father was happy.

Returning to the car, I gave Weevil an update. He just nodded his understanding and asked if I was okay.

We hadn't eaten any supper. He suggested we stop for ice cream. How did he know that would make me feel better?

While we ate, we barely spoke. We just sat there on a bench. I leaned into his side. His arm rested on the back of the bench behind me. Occasionally, he placed cold-lipped kisses on the side of my neck. That portion of the day was damn near perfect.

[

[

The next morning at school, it quickly became apparent that Tad had "pressed the button" and sent the video of Carmen to everyone at school. People in every hallway and classroom seemed to be watching it on their phones or computers.

I was at my locker when I overheard Felix's comment about the video. I turned to see Weevil grab a phone away from him.

"Hey, what's wrong with you, man? Where'd this come from?" Weevil was infuriated. Not waiting for Felix to reply, he headed down the hallway to me. "I need to talk to you. Now."

I could tell he wasn't angry at me, but it was still unnerving to have him speak to me in that tone of voice. He led me to the shop, which he knew would be empty.

"This is what you were helping Carmen with?"

"Yeah. I thought we had it fixed yesterday, but apparently not."

"So, this is Tad's handiwork?"

I nodded. He waited for me to explain. So I did – in the vaguest of terms – about the night that Carmen did not remember, but was preserved on video. Then, I explained in even vaguer terms why I felt compelled to help her.

After he paced back and forth for a minute, he turned to face me. He asked a series of questions and paused just long enough for me to nod my answer to each. "You said she doesn't remember that night? She was probably drugged, right? You helped her because some asshole did something similar to you?"

I had to use words for this reply. And I chose them carefully. I avoided anything that would indicate a who, where, or when. I could tell that Weevil was already furious that something like this had been done to Carmen. If he knew it was the same night and who had been at the party, I could imagine him going after anyone and everyone without having anything definitive.

He was fuming the same way he had about me being locked in the trunk of my car. For a tough guy, he was incredibly protective of women. I shouldn't have been so turned on considering the situation that had to be dealt with, but honestly, I could barely keep my hands off him.

He continued to question me. "When you told me that the things being said about you aren't true … that has something to do with this night you don't remember, doesn't it?"

"I don't know anything for sure. But I'm going to find out. And then I'm going to deal with it – my way."

"Not sure I can go along with that."

I turned on a bit of female charm. "If I promise to keep you informed while I investigate, will you try?"

He softened his position slightly. "I'll try. But this thing with Tad? I'm dealing with that my way."

I knew it was pointless to argue with him. Probably had his mind made up the moment he saw the video.

"I have one more question for you, V. How does Duncan's laptop figure into all of this?"

I was stunned by his question, though I guess I shouldn't have been. "Not at all. Honestly." Seeing his skeptical expression, I continued, "I swear to you. He did not have any photos or videos. The reason he was concerned, which made me concerned, was that he kept a journal on it. It included the time we were dating."

"So you're saying that ... when Duncan returns, there is absolutely no need for me to beat the shit out of him?"

"None."

He was quiet for a moment and seemed to be gathering his thoughts. "I know that trusting people isn't easy for you after … everything. Anyway, sorry if … that felt like an interrogation. But I needed ..."

While we were talking, I had been leaning against a chain link fence that enclosed a locked area in the shop. After his little monologue, he shifted toward me. There was a look in his eyes that I hadn't seen before and couldn't quite identify. But it made my heart race and my temperature rise – and he hadn't touched me yet.

He gripped the fence near the right side of my head as he simultaneously pulled the fence toward him and pressed his body up against me – effectively pinning me between himself and the fence. As he began to kiss me, I lost track of the passage of time. The beginning pace was slow – our lips lazily dancing with one another. But things intensified quickly. Soon, his lips, teeth, and tongue were exploring my neck while his right hand traced the waistband of my jeans. I'm fairly certain that I was babbling incoherently – passion, hormones, whatever … having taken over. The sound of my rambling voice in his ear seemed to spur him on. His hand had slipped under the hem of my shirt and onto my back – though I did not notice until it was between my shoulder blades, as he used his arm to hold my torso against his. It was at that point that I regained some brain function.

"Weevil," I panted breathlessly. "Things … moving too … we should … need to … stop."

The pace slowed down and he placed whisper-soft kisses along my collarbone. He stilled, his forehead resting against my neck. A soft "Mmm" escaped his lips as his hand ghosted down my spine, slipped out from under my shirt, and came to rest on the denim covering my hipbone.

"Wow," was the only word I could form at the moment.

"Yeah," he sighed. Taking a step back so he could look me in the eye, he seemed about to say something.

I placed my index finger over his lips. "Shh." Tipping my head toward the door, I said, "We should get going."

Pausing before we stepped out into the hallway, he said, "While you're looking into stuff … just … well … promise you won't shut me out. Even if you think something will upset me."

The moment felt a tad heavy. I almost cracked a joke, but decided a sincere response would be received better. "I think I can do that." I wanted to ask if he could do the same with me. But I didn't.

[

At the end of the school day, I noticed Carmen's car was still in the parking lot. I found her in the computer lab – her face wet, her eyes red and puffy. She told me that she was still glad she dumped him.

I pulled out my laptop and opened the email draft ready to send to 1,032 recipients. Mutually assured destruction. The way I saw it, Tad had brought this on himself.

To my surprise, rather than hit send, Carmen deleted the email. "I guess revenge just isn't my thing."

[

When I arrived at the office that afternoon, I found Dad sitting at my desk looking at the classifieds I had left sitting there the night before.

He explained that he wanted options, that it was just the first step, and that he would let me know if he would be taking another. He added, "No more surprises, I promise."

"I just want you to be happy, Dad, and I realize that may involve surprises."

Immediately following this father-daughter moment, Mac walked in and announced the name they should be looking for: "Roberto Nalbandian. Someone purchased his Argentinean passport off of eBay and had it shipped to the airport Marriott." Then, she began to negotiate her share of the reward.

[

That evening, I called Weevil a couple of times, but got no answer. I finally left a voice mail asking him to call me back no matter how late it was when he got my message. I could only assume that he was busy dealing with Tad.

It was 2:00 a.m. when he finally returned my call.

"Hey, V."

"Hey, yourself. Busy night of PCH business?"

He laughed darkly. "You could say that."

"Yeah, I figured as much. You know what else I was thinking? Tad got himself into a pretty sticky situation today."

"Sticky, eh? You could say that." We were both quiet for a moment. Then, he asked, "You gonna cut this one down?"

"Nope."

"Good. Glad we're on the same page this time."

We chatted for a while about other things – like how my car was running and the fact that he would be in need of my tutoring services in the next few weeks. When I began yawning so much that I had difficulty holding up my end of the conversation, he suggested that it might be time to say goodnight. I had to agree.

Besides, I had already decided that I wanted to get to school early. I had a witness to question. It was time to find out what happened that night.

[

[

There wasn't another soul around when I arrived at school the following morning.

"I guess you and Carmen got those bikers to put me up here," Tad spat at me.

"I had nothing to do with putting you up here. But I might be convinced to help you get down. I just want a simple answer to a simple question. Who gave you the rohypnol the night of Shelly Pomroy's party? Yeah, I know. You roofied your girlfriend. 'Class' with a capital K."

"There weren't any roofies. It was GHB. Logan Echolls gave it to me."

I'm not sure what answer I expected, but that wasn't it. "This might sting a bit." As I pulled the bandage off his shoulder, I took a look at his new body art: the name Seth emblazoned across a sizable red heart.

[

Weevil sidled up to me at my locker, whispering in my ear, "You the one who took the bandage off?"

I just grinned and shrugged my shoulders.

"You knew what it said?"

I couldn't help but laugh as I turned to look at him.

He changed the subject. "How's your investigation going? Gonna need my assistance anytime soon?"

"I've got a lead, but this one could take a while for me to unravel." I needed to stall him for as long as possible. "But I promise to let you know if I need your help."

He put his hand on my arm tenderly, ignoring the fact that we were in a hallway filled with people. "Anything you need. Any hour of the day. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I do."

And I really did. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I could depend on him. But I did not want him getting himself into trouble defending my honor and retaliating against whoever was responsible for whatever happened to me at Shelly's party. I would have to be very careful about what I told him and what assistance I asked for.

* * *

A/N:

Next up is #1.21 "Trip to the Dentist" which overlaps with the case that Veronica was working when she went to that club ... way back in Chapter 1.

Thanks for reading! Until next time ...

~Jen

30 October 2016


	9. Chapter 9: S1 Ep21

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Chapter 9 occurs during modified version of #1.21 "A Trip to the Dentist."

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

Battle would be joined Monday morning. I would love to say "at dawn" for the dramatic effect, but truth is, that's too early for tactical brain function. At least, for me. Priorities, people! Sleep, coffee … then, interrogate the assholes who perpetrated and contributed to (and/or did not prevent) the assault at Shelly's party.

Over the weekend, I needed a bit of escapism while I devised my plan of attack. For a couple of hours, diversion came in the form of the movie musical Grease.

Frenchy hit the nail on the head when she said, "Men are rats. Listen to me. They're fleas on rats. Worse than that – they're amoebas on fleas on rats. I mean, they're too low for even the dogs to bite. The only man a girl can depend on is her daddy."

I could totally relate to Sandy when Danny acted as if he did not to know her after the football game … and when she realized that Rizzo had only been _pretending_ to be her friend. It is brutal when you think you can trust people and only to have them turn their backs on you.

A long time ago, I thought I had friends. Now, I had a list of suspects.

I needed a friend right now – someone to lean on, someone who could possibly even help. But I couldn't dump all this on Wallace yet. And I certainly couldn't tell Weevil until I had solid information.

Although I could always depend on my Dad, I couldn't talk to him about this. And even if I decided to ask for his help, he wasn't here right now.

Once Mac told us the name on the passport that was delivered to the Airport Marriott, it made the process of finding Duncan decidedly easier. While I held down the fort (and took Backup for walks), Dad was on a short trip to Cuba.

[

[

It was Monday morning and I'd had all weekend to think about what Tad had told me. But that did not mean I was ready to see Logan. I needed more info before I could decide exactly how angry I should be with him. Fortunately, these days I had my own personal bodyguard.

I heard Logan running after me, calling my name. I just kept walking. When I could no longer hear Logan's voice, I glanced over my shoulder. And there he was. My bodyguard.

Weevil had put himself in Logan's path and would not allow him to pass. I couldn't hear what they were saying to one another, but Logan looked like he was about to lose control. On the other hand, Weevil looked like he was totally in control.

I had gotten out of bed feeling like I was ready to take on the whole world – well, at least the whole school. As soon as I saw Logan, I realized that I was not emotionally ready to talk to people about that night. I wasn't sure if I would fall apart … or if I'd tear them apart. I decided today was not the day to find out.

For the rest of the day, I was outwardly quiet, but my thoughts were loud as I allowed possible conversations and interactions to play out in my head. It was safe in there – I could rewind and edit when I didn't like how things went. Unfortunately, I wouldn't have that much control over the actual interrogations.

[

Wallace had something to take care of at the end of lunch. Moments after his departure, Weevil sat down next to me.

"Thanks for running interference with Logan earlier." I took a bite of nearly edible cake.

"He been bothering you?"

"Nothing I can't handle, but since … that day at the Camelot, he keeps trying to talk to me."

"And?"

"And what? Clearly, I don't want to talk to him." I was mildly annoyed at his implication.

"Sorry. Old habit. He's not my favorite person."

I gave him a look that hopefully communicated that Logan wasn't a favorite of mine either.

[

That evening, I had just gotten out of the shower when I heard Backup barking in the living room. Walking out to check on him, I could see that someone was at the door.

Then, I heard a voice say, "I'm not leaving."

I took a deep breath to steady myself before opening the door. I could not yet look Logan in the eye.

"What did I do, Veronica? Can you just tell me so that I can … apologize … or explain?"

"Okay. Explain to me why you were the one with GHB the night of Shelly Pomroy's party when someone drugged and raped me. Explanation? Apology?"

He attempted an explanation for why he had the drugs, what he had intended to do with them. No matter how much he tried to explain, it did not change the fact that what he intended and what actually happened were two very different things.

Before closing the door on him, I said, "I'm going to find out who did this to me and I'm going to make them pay. Even if it was you."

I might not have been ready earlier today, but now, I was ready. May God have mercy on the responsible parties, because I did not plan to.

[

[

On Tuesday, I drove into the school parking lot and immediately noticed Weevil standing by his motorcycle – clearly, waiting for me. It was like he had radar. In the past, that might have bothered me. However, his protective tendency had grown on me.

As I gathered my things and was getting out of my car, I saw him strolling over. It was fairly impressive how casual he could appear while moving with purpose.

"Good morning, kind sir. Are you here to escort me to class?"

"Why? Do you need an escort?"

As we walked toward the building, I replied cautiously. "I had a visitor last night."

"Anyone I know?"

I nodded.

"The Sheriff's out of town, right?"

I nodded again.

His eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you call me?"

"I didn't invite him in – we talked at the door. He wasn't there long enough for me to need any backup … other than Backup."

" _Please_ tell me he growled at Logan. Maybe even a little barking?"

I nodded and laughed at that.

"I knew I liked your dog. Good judge of character." Weevil stopped walking as he put a hand on my arm. "But you're alright?"

I looked him straight in the eye. "I'm fine. But thanks for asking."

He leaned toward me and whispered, "Do you know how much I want to kiss you right now?"

"At least as much as I want to kiss you."

But we were out in the open and there were other people around. A kiss in front of God and everybody? That display of affection would have to wait.

"Will I see you later?" he asked hopefully.

"I've got a busy day ahead. And Dad gets back later. So dinner at home – you know, daddy-daughter time."

He nodded and opened the door for me. It was one of the few displays of kindness I would see all day.

[

My primary mission for today (and for as many days as it took) was to find out what happened at Shelly's party. Tad's info led me to Logan, who had said he was with Luke and Sean when he bought the Liquid X.

Luke revealed that he had given two doses to Dick and figured that he planned (but failed) to have Madison take one. I decided my next witness would need to be someone who actually liked me and would tell me what I needed to know.

When I began to ask Meg about that night, she suggested that maybe it was a good thing that my memory was fuzzy. I pressed her until she told me what she saw: me on a lounge chair, completely out of it, people gathered around to watch body shots, and an unidentified hero who came to my rescue.

As sometimes happens during detective work, some leads are discovered by chance. Although I had no intention of telling Meg about the GHB, I ended up telling her that it went from Luke to Dick but evidently not to Madison.

Then, Meg said something off-handedly that was in fact important. "I wouldn't be so sure that Dick didn't _try_ to give a dose to Madison. Do you happen to remember someone handing you a drink?" When I nodded, she went on to explain that Madison liked to play a childish prank that she calls "a trip to the dentist."

When I cornered Madison, the puzzle pieces that she contributed to solving this mystery had to do with the fact that I had been making out with – according to her – everyone, including her boyfriend, Dick. Hence, the fury that led her to scrawl the letters SLUT on my vehicle. She rolled her eyes at me when I asked if she had handed off the drink Dick gave her, but she tossed an admission over her shoulder as she walked away.

[

When I arrived home from my fun-filled day, the fun continued. Apparently, the head of security at Kane Software, Clarence Weidman, had found the bug in the plant I had Wallace deliver. As I walked into the apartment, Alicia was yelling at Dad – saying that he didn't seem to care that she could have lost her job. I tried to explain, but he shushed me and sent me to my room. It was immature and a little petty, but I couldn't help saying, "He bugged me first," as I walked toward my room.

After Wallace's mom had left, Dad came back to talk to me, to let me know several things: that Duncan was home, but would not be in school for a few days; that we had gotten a new client and he wanted me to get started on some basic background; and that he would be heading to Vegas to follow up on someone he had been tracking for a while.

My father and I definitely did not have your typical father-daughter relationship, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. Considering some of the screwed up families I've seen in this town, we've got it pretty good. And I don't take that for granted for one second.

That was the primary reason I felt so weird about not telling him, among other things, what was happening with me and Weevil. I fully intended to tell him … at some point. It just seemed completely unnecessary to bring on the parental wrath that would certainly ensue … you know, if it didn't end up going anywhere. So, I stalled.

Maybe once I solved this mystery … The Case of the Party I Should Never Have Attended … and took a little time to deal with the resulting fallout from that. Maybe then.

It would have to be soon. It made me uncomfortable keeping things from Dad, Wallace, and Weevil all at the same time.

[

[

Meeting Weevil in the bathroom had been happening on a regular basis – primarily so that we could speak privately. However, there was the occasional kiss. In general, the action was on the tame side, because when you're in the middle of investigating the night you were raped … physical contact can cause not-so-normal reactions. And until I got to the bottom of this, things needed to seem as normal as possible.

By Wednesday, Weevil was curious why I was interrogating everyone at school. I avoided explanation by simply saying that I didn't have all the info yet. He gave me the same look as he did the night of the poker game when I didn't want to tell him what had happened with Jake Kane – the look told me that he would be asking again, because he knew there was more to it. But for now, he let it go.

"You alright? You've been acting …"

"Strange?" I finished his thought.

"Yeah. So are you … alright?"

"Honestly? I'm not. But I will be. I just need you to trust me a bit longer. Then, I'll fill you in."

"Do I have a choice?" He knew the answer to that before he asked. He kissed me on the forehead and said, "See you later."

[

I made a point of finding Wallace to apologize for having him help me bug Kane Software.

He didn't completely let me off the hook, but made it clear that he could have said no. "You know, I do these things for you and I never ask you why."

"I know. I'd do the same for you."

"Is that so?" He gave me a sideways glance. "Weevil used one of the absence slips I took for you. You, I do favors for. My friends, I put my butt on the line for. That guy taped me to the flag pole. You wanna tell me why I'm helping him out?"

"You're not. Weevil gave me a tip that helped us find Duncan. It was just loose ends and stuff. That's it."

Shaking his head, Wallace said, "I get the feeling there's more to it. Seems like the kind of thing you'd tell a best friend."

[

After that, the remainder of my day was filled with additional witness statements.

Madison had specifically mentioned Casey's name among people I made out with. Thankfully, he was someone who owed me from earlier this year and therefore, would be more willing to answer my questions. It took a bit of coaxing, but eventually he did. What he added to the growing narrative was that Sean and Dick had been feeding me shots while encouraging me to engage in a little girl-on-girl action with Shelly.

Sean denied feeding me shots and tried to direct my wrath elsewhere, saying that Dick had taken me into the guest room and left me there with Beaver.

When I went to talk to Dick, I was armed with enough anger to threaten one of the few things that he held dear – his surfboard. We went 'round and 'round while he denied having any drugs. He said he _found_ me in the guest bedroom and that I was coming on to Beaver. Just before I crushed his precious board, I did get him to admit to putting the GHB in Madison's drink. Put that fact together with Madison's confession – well, at least I now understood why I did not remember that night.

Beaver, who by now had heard that I was asking lots of questions, claimed that (although Dick had encouraged him to take advantage of the situation) nothing happened, that he had left me passed out on the bed in the guest room. He mentioned something about hurling on Carrie Bishop's shoes, which made me wonder if she had seen anything.

As luck would have it, Carrie was working at Java the Hut that afternoon. With her behind the counter, I had a captive – if not entirely willing – audience. Yes, she had in fact seen me in the guest room – as well as a few pieces of clothing that went flying just before Duncan climbed on top of me.

[

As I rang the doorbell of the Kane house, I wondered if I should have stopped to process before having this conversation with Duncan or if it was better that I had not taken the time to brood over it.

When he answered the door, I didn't really give much preamble before accusing him of raping me. But as he explained it, he thought we had an unspoken agreement that we'd just never talk about it. He said the reason he had to get out of there, even though it was consensual, was that his mother had told him I was his sister and he felt guilty for still having those feelings for me.

Now in a daze, I drove to the only place I could think to go – Wallace's house. But I couldn't bring myself to go to the door. I wasn't sure where to begin to tell this whole sordid tale to my best friend. He spared me from having to find the courage to get out of the car; he came out to talk to me. After that, it was a little easier. I felt better after I finished. Of course, he felt worse. But just having someone to talk it through with made a big difference. At least now I knew what had happened that night. It wasn't good, but it was no longer a mystery.

While I was there, I shared with him what I had on Lilly's murder. It was time that I told him everything – well, everything except about Weevil. I also apologized to his mom about having Wallace take the bugged plant to her workplace and tried to assure her that my dad was still interested in her.

There were still two more people I needed to talk to. One was Logan – to tell him that I knew what part he had played, but that I knew he had not raped me and that I did not think he had intended to do me harm that night. I talked to him on the phone while I walked Backup on a nearly empty beach. Logan added another piece of information to complete the puzzle: he had put GHB in Duncan's drink about the time he had rescued me from the salt lick, which was before we ended up in the guest bedroom together. Logan said that he wanted to come clean about all of it because he wanted me to be able to trust him. When I asked why, he responded in a way that surprised me. And yet, it did not.

"I can't stop thinking about the day we kissed at the Camelot. I think you know how I feel. And I know you've been trying to avoid me. But I'd like a chance to change your mind about me. I thought ... maybe I could take you out sometime."

"Logan. No. For oh so many reasons, no."

"Why not?"

"For starters, I'm not interested in you, but more than that …" I paused briefly, while an internal debate happened at the speed of light. "The truth is … I'm seeing someone." After momentary silence, he seemed about to ask who, but I cut him off by saying, "I've gotta go." Then, I quickly hung up.

I made one last call before heading home – to Weevil to see if he had time to come over and talk. He asked if I had found the information I had been looking for. When I answered yes, he immediately said he'd clear his schedule for the rest of the evening. I told him to meet me at my apartment. With Dad out of town, we would be able to talk privately.

[

Backup beat me to the door and sat eagerly waiting for his new favorite person. The moment Weevil stepped into the apartment, he was greeted with sloppy wet kisses, but not from me. It was absolutely adorable seeing the two of them together.

As soon as the love-fest was over, I led Weevil over to the couch where we could sit and talk. Backup sat at our feet, hoping for more affection.

"First, I want to apologize for being so … _weird_ lately." That seemed like a good place to begin.

"Don't worry about it. All I care about is you. What did you find out? I mean, if you're ready to tell me about it." He waited for my response.

"I _was_ drugged, but I wasn't …" I looked at the floor, at my hands, at Backup – anywhere but Weevil's face. "I was with Duncan." I didn't realize that I was rubbing up and down my thighs until he reached over to hold my hands still. This helped calm me down and I was able to continue. "Apparently, we ended up together. He was wasted and I was … out of it … I guess our feelings and nature …"

"Veronica, I … I'm not sure what to say. I'm just glad you're okay."

Turning my face toward him, a tear slipped down my cheek. "And I'm glad you're here."

"What do you need me to do?"

"You mean like who should you beat up?" I laughed, although it wasn't really a joking matter.

"Well, yeah. Or whatever."

"Nobody. There's nobody I want you to beat up. It was an Aristotelian confluence of events."

"Meaning?"

"Several things came together and conspired against me that night. One person bought the drugs and gave some to a guy who tried to give it to his girlfriend who handed the cup off to me and then someone also put some in Duncan's drink." I shook my head at the craziness of it all. "Too many people contributed to it to put the blame on any one person."

"But that's the thing – people contributed to it. 'Rape' might not be the right word … but you and Duncan were both victims. To hear you tell it, it sounds like under normal circumstances, it's not something you would have done, you know, consciously … consensually."

I looked up at him. "You're not wrong."

"So I'll ask again: what do you need me to do?"

"Right now? Hold me. After that, just treat me better than those idiots."

"Not setting the bar very high there, V."

He put his arms around me. We leaned back into the cushions. Periodically, he would kiss the top of my head while he rubbed circles on my back.

I fell asleep for a while, waking when he got a phone call. When he was leaving, the kiss we shared was rather chaste. My emotions were raw at the moment and I wasn't sure where my boundaries were. He seemed to understand that without me saying a word.

[

[

After the intensity of the past couple days, I decided to arrive at school just before my first class today. I didn't want to be in the halls with those people any longer than absolutely necessary.

I had been at my locker less than a minute when I heard Weevil walk up behind me. A huge smile spread across my face as he leaned against the locker next to mine.

"Good morning, beautiful." The warmth in his voice was almost as comforting as a hug would have been. "Sleep well?"

With my face turned toward the pile of books in my locker, I whispered, "I slept better when I was curled up next to you." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him grinning. "Can you meet me sometime this morning?"

"Shop? During your study hall?" he suggested.

"Shop it is."

He nodded at me and then looked down the hall. "Looks like someone needs to talk to me."

"See you soon." I resisted the urge to watch him walk away. Considering the sensations throughout my body, I was certain it would be too easy to read my expression if someone saw me watching him.

[

I used a pass (thanks to my BFF) to get out of study hall. As I walked toward the shop, my emotions became more conflicted. Happy at the thought that I would not only get to see Weevil, but I'd also get that hug I'd been craving. However, with all that had been revealed in the past few days, there were so many things running through my head. As a result, my body seemed to be experiencing (or re-experiencing) feelings I couldn't quite put my finger on, something I couldn't quite grasp.

Since I woke up this morning, I had been on the verge of tears. Can you say 'woke up' when you're not sure you actually slept?

During the last stretch of hallway, I tried to get a grip on my emotions before meeting Weevil.

I opened the door and let my eyes adjust to the dimly lit space. I heard him before I saw him – he had been sitting on the hood of a car which groaned as he slid off and began walking toward me. There was a smile on his face, but his body language showed the same concern as the previous night.

That was all it took. By the time he reached me, I fell into his arms and began to weep. Not heavy sobbing, but none the less, a much-needed emotional release.

He walked me over to a lounge area that had been created using bench seats from vintage cars as if they were couches. I shivered and he immediately removed his jacket and placed it around my shoulders. For a few minutes, we just sat there as he held me.

My breathing had steadied and he asked if I was alright now. When I didn't reply, he leaned away to look at my face. The touch of his fingers was tender as he wiped away the tears that had run down my cheeks; so were his lips as he kissed the still-damp skin. My eyes closed as I reveled in this moment, this feeling of safety and warmth. He placed kisses on each eyelid and then pressed his forehead to mine as we seemed to melt into one another.

My skin was on fire and my senses were heightened. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in him, to forget everything and everyone else in the world. Things were already intense before our lips met. But when they did, it was … I'm not even sure how to describe it. In a way, it felt like things were moving in slow motion. But also, as if things were moving so quickly that they were blurring together. It felt like I was lost in a watercolor … one that was in the process of being painted.

He let go of me just long enough to pull his shirt off over his head. Immediately, he picked up where he had left off. He laid me down on the bench below him, careful to support his weight. Things slowed for a moment, but the featherlight touches of my fingertips on his back and shoulders seemed to trigger something in him. Things intensified again – a slow and heavy intensity.

He rolled to the side, his back against the back of the bench seat. His hand stroked the side of my face as we continued to kiss – slowly, deliberately, with eyes open. His fingers traced along my jawline, down my neck and sternum until he reached the top button of my shirt. He paused briefly before proceeding to free each button from its hole, one by one. I was lost in his eyes, his kiss, his touch.

When he reached the last button, his knuckle brushed against my bellybutton, bringing me back to reality. He slid the fabric to one side until that collarbone and shoulder were exposed. That is where he began to place a line of kisses. Then, he made his way down to the swell of my breast just above the edge of my tank top.

I wanted this as much as he did. But not right now – I was still sorting through what had happened. And not like this – on a car seat, hidden in the shadows, during school.

Using one of my hands to bring his face to mine, I kissed him as I used my other hand to still his, which had been grazing along the side of my breast. As I held his gaze, I brought his hand to my lips and kissed each knuckle. He seemed to understand without my having to spell it out – I needed to stop.

He kissed my nose and then sat up. I missed the warmth of contact. Grabbing his shirt where it had landed on a nearby seat, he shook it and quickly put it back on. As soon as he did, I missed the view.

He seemed deep in thought and avoided looking at me as he got his jacket.

I cleared my throat before saying, "I know it sounds cliché, but it's not you. Please look at me, so I am sure that you understand this."

As I finished buttoning my shirt, he sat next to me, placing a hand on my knee, he said, "Look, I'm … I shouldn't have … not after everything you've been dealing with."

"It's not that I don't want this. Because I do. Just that for right now, I need …"

"Whatever you need." He said those words like Westley in The Princess Bride had repeatedly said, 'As you wish.'

What did I need? "I guess we need to set ground rules."

He waited for me to finish my thought.

"I don't know exactly where the line is. I can't predict what I may react to at any given moment 'til I get past this. But to keep it simple, let's just say: no clothing removal and uh …" I paused while trying to find a way to explain that there needed to be limits. Seeing his expression, I continued, "For now. Besides, we need to cool it at least until we tell our friends. Felix almost caught us kissing during lunch that one day. Can you imagine if he had come in here when you were half-naked?"

With a slight smirk and a laugh, all he said was, "Yeah. Alright." He stood and extended a hand, leading me to a restroom. "Even with red, puffy eyes and a tear-streaked face, I think you're beautiful. But I'm guessing you might want to freshen up before walking to your next class."

One look in the mirror and I was thankful for his thoughtfulness. I wanted to kiss him again. And again.

As if cued by my recent comment, Felix came into the shop looking for Weevil. He started talking and then caught a glimpse of my profile in front of the sink and mirror. Gesturing in my direction, he asked Weevil, "Something I should know?" When Weevil did not immediately reply, he continued, "You've been spending an awful lot of time with Blondie."

"She needed something." Seeing that Felix wanted more of an explanation than that, Weevil added, "Something happened to her. She needed … a shoulder to cry on."

"When do we go after the guy?" So soon after dealing with the Carmen and Tad situation, it would have been easy for him to jump to that conclusion.

"We don't. She wants to handle this her way. She just wanted to know someone has her back … you know, if it comes to that." Weevil glanced my way as I began to walk toward them. Turning back to Felix, he emphasized, "This … what I just said … it stays between us. Got it?"

"Got it," he answered his leader and then nodded at me.

I was glad they had been talking loudly enough for me to overhear. I was also glad that Weevil had told his friend something in the neighborhood of the truth, vague though it was. And that he had asked him to keep it to himself.

Smiling at him, I said, "Hi, Felix. He's all yours. I was just leaving." Looking at Weevil, I said, "Any chance you can drop by our office tonight?"

He nodded. "And the Sheriff?"

"Still on that case."

He nodded again, this time with a twinkle in his eye.

I had to resist the urge to kiss him. I turned to go, leaving the two of them to whatever PCH business had brought Felix looking for him.

[

I didn't see him much the rest of the day, though he did drop by briefly during lunch.

Leaning against the table, he said, "Earlier, we got … interrupted. Just checking that … uh, we're cool."

It amused me that he was being vague because Wallace was sitting with me. "Yeah. We're cool." I smiled up at him.

He nodded and looked off in the distance as he asked, "So … later, then?"

"Yeah. Later," I said as he began to leave.

Wallace shook his head and laughed. "You guys just did a whole thing right in front of me and I have no idea what just went down."

"Just a little mutual backscratching. Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about."

"This is one of those 'need to know' things?"

"Yep. And I promise to tell you all about it … when you need to know."

[

Knowing that there would be messages on the machine and filing to catch up on, I went straight to the office after school. Weevil had texted when he was finished at work. While I waited for him to arrive, I tried to focus, but the letters and numbers on the screen of my laptop kept swimming around.

I was in the kitchen getting a cup of coffee when I heard a knock on the door. Dad had asked me to keep it locked if I was here by myself. I peeked around the corner just as Weevil said, "Hey, V, it's me. You in there?"

After unlocking the door, I indicated my mug. "I was just getting some coffee. You want some?"

"No, thanks." Weevil sat across from me at the desk. "You ask me here for business or …?"

I tilted my head and smiled at him. "Tonight, business. Well, mostly business."

I pulled out the notes that Dad had written down from his meeting with the new client and a few things I had located this evening. Then, I began to explain.

"Short version, I need your help with something."

"Figured as much."

"The thing is … it's related to a case we just got. And I can't tell you everything – client confidentiality and all. Dad asked me to do some basic background while he's gone, but he's had so many other things … well, I'm hoping I can dig a little deeper before he gets back."

"Okay, how do I fit into this?"

I glanced over Dad's notes, trying to decide what I should tell him – or rather, how much I _could_ tell him.

The clients were parents of a young woman, Angela Roman, who had been missing for two years. At the time of her disappearance, she was a junior at Hearst College and had just had a bad breakup with her boyfriend. The FBI had looked into it, because there were several missing person cases with similarities – girls from colleges throughout the United States. Technically speaking, they solved the case, but Angela had not been found. The others were victims of human trafficking who were found when a local establishment was busted for offering services that could not legally be listed on the menu, but were offered in rooms above the bar.

Other than that, all we had was a list of names Angela's parents gave my Dad – close friends, roommate, etc. He really just wanted me to do the standard background research I could do on my computer and maybe interview a few of her friends. Her female friends might be more willing to open up to me rather than him. I had tracked down contact info for most of them while I waited for Weevil to get here.

The more I thought about the case, something wasn't sitting right with me. I couldn't shake the feeling that the FBI had been too quick to say that her case was linked with the others and had overlooked something. The one thing I knew for sure: if her disappearance was connected to illegal activity in the Neptune area, then the gang leader across the desk from me was a logical source of info.

I had been able to get in touch with one of Angela's friends tonight. Vicki told me that after the breakup, they had gone to an upscale club that is no longer in business. There was a guy named Gil hitting on Angela all night. Vicki said something about him seemed off. He flashed a lot of cash, but he didn't feel like a typical 09er or 'old money' (by the way she said it, it sounded like Vicki was). She didn't want to make assumptions about the source of his money, but she remembered wondering at the time if he might be into drugs or something else illegal. I took a chance and asked if she had taken any photos that night. Good news for me – she not only had photos, but was willing to send them to me.

Staring at a photo that clearly showed the guy's face, I was planning to forward it on to Weevil, but had yet to follow through.

"V, I can hear the gears in your head. You gonna let me in on whatever this is?"

"Sorry. Lost in thought, obviously. About two years ago, a female student at Hearst went missing. FBI pretty much gave up on the case. Her parents decided my Dad might be their best chance at finding her – since he's local ... and former law enforcement, but an investigator paid directly by them."

"Still waiting for how this involves me."

"I'm doing preliminary research, but …"

"Is this the part where I talk you out of doing something dangerous?"

I pulled a face at him. "This is the part where I ask if you can find out who this guy is." I gestured at his phone as the picture arrived in his inbox.

He opened the photo and examined the face.

"Can you check around for me? Without drawing undue attention?"

"V, when have you known me to be anything but subtle?"

"I'm going to assume that was a rhetorical question." Finally noticing that he had brought a textbook with him, I pointed at it and asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"Maybe. Mostly, I just brought it along to have something to do while you worked."

A smile spread across my face. "I do have some filing to do. You want to work here at the desk or the couch?"

"Coffee table's fine." He grabbed a sharpened pencil from the cup on my desk. "Got any paper?"

Shaking my head, I handed him a tablet. "At least you brought the book."

After about twenty minutes of filing in near silence, I turned to look at him – seeing him leaned over the table with a look of concentration on his face. His phone buzzed. As he opened his phone, he caught me watching him. He smiled. I smiled. Then, he looked down at the screen and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"I gotta go. Can you look this over?" He handed me the tablet.

I flipped through several pages of his writing. "You got a lot done."

"Starting to make sense, I guess." He shrugged.

"You want to wait while I check this or …?"

"Can you bring it tomorrow? I gotta meet Felix."

"Sure. I'll text you if there's anything we need to go over before school."

"Thanks, V." He gave me a quick peck on the cheek, pulled on his jacket, closed his book, and returned the pencil to the cup. Then, just before he headed for the door, he paused to give me a proper goodbye kiss. "Goodnight, beautiful."

When he left, I sat down at my desk to look over his math homework. He had checked the answers against the key in the back – for the most part, they matched. That meant I was mostly checking to make sure he had shown his work the way the teacher wanted it. Other than a couple inverted numbers and the occasional misplaced decimal point, it looked good. I made notes on a separate piece of paper so he could make changes in his own handwriting.

I waited until I got home to text him I didn't think we'd need to meet before school – well, not for math tutoring anyway.

[

[

Standing at my locker, my body was on high alert knowing that Weevil would be dropping by for our morning visit. I had removed his homework from the tablet and folded it with my notes about the changes to make. I knew that he would drop by for that. And probably to arrange a time to see me later. I was already running through my schedule in my head, wanting to clear as much time as possible.

While I was daydreaming about how we could use our available free time, he appeared next to me with a paper bag in his hands. In truth, I smelled the contents of the bag before I saw him.

My mouth watered as I asked, "Whatcha got there?"

"I can't fool my grandma. She says she knows I'm seeing someone. Says I look happy. She made churros last night. She set these aside and told me to take 'em to my girl. I think she's hoping it will entice you to come to dinner sometime." Reacting to me biting my lips to hide a grin, he said, "Yes, consider that an open invitation. Not like you haven't met. She already likes you … you know that, right? Not that I told her it was you."

I looked in the bag and inhaled deeply. "Mmm. Smells delicious."

"When will I see you? You know, for more than five minutes hiding in the shadows."

"Working this case for Dad, I'm slammed right now, but should have time this weekend." Seeing that he wanted something more definitive, I added, "I've got stuff to do tomorrow. How about Sunday?"

He nodded. "Nothing on that photo yet. Let me know if you need anything else?"

He had phrased it like a question, but his raised eyebrows and pointed look told me it wasn't a casual request. He had slipped back into the role of my protector.

I handed him the homework papers. "My notes are on the top sheet so you can make the changes. There aren't many."

"Thanks." Just before he walked away, he said, "Call you later."

I nodded. "I'll be in and out of the office this evening, but yeah, call later."

After he walked away, I opened the bag and broke off a bite-sized piece to taste. It was as delicious as it smelled.

I did not even notice that Wallace had walked up to me. "Veronica, why exactly are you moaning in a public place?"

I finished chewing and swallowed in order to answer him. "I was eating the most amazing sweet treat."

"I saw you talking to Weevil just now. What was that about?"

"Actually, he was dropping off this bag of delectable goodness … as a thank you for some help I gave him with his homework." Even as I bent the truth, I felt guilty for being less than completely honest with my best friend. Again.

"On his resume under special skills, does it say 'pastry chef' just below 'duct tape master' – or did he steal them for you?"

Glaring at him, I replied, "His grandmother made them. He promised her that he would graduate. I guess she's happy that he's putting some effort into his school work."

As Wallace and I walked to our first class, we passed by the cluster of PCHers in the hall. Weevil and I made eye contact. That was all it took to make my temperature rise. It made me wonder: how much longer would we be able to keep this a secret?

[

During free time at school, I got all my homework done, so that I could use this afternoon and the rest of the weekend on this missing person case. Well, I did promise Weevil some time on Sunday which meant I would need to be extra efficient today and tomorrow.

After school, the first thing on my to-do list was going home to walk Backup. My second stop was Hearst College to talk to another one of Angela's friends, Cailyn, who was a fifth-year senior. She was able to fill in some more info about Gil. She thought his last name might be Harrison, but she was certain that Gil had asked Angela to go away with him for a weekend. It wasn't something she'd normally do, but after the bad breakup she had with her boyfriend, she was a bit more wild and reckless. Cailyn said she wouldn't have been surprised if Angela had gone with him. I asked if it was possible that Angela ran off with Gil. Cailyn's response was that as crazy as Angela was acting, she might have skipped out on the rest of that semester, but she would have come back to finish her degree.

My conversation with Cailyn got me thinking. I wondered if Angela had gone away with Gil by choice and then something bad happened to her or both of them. Or did Gil lure her into the trip with less than noble intentions? Or maybe Gil had nothing at all to do with her disappearance.

While I was on the Hearst campus, I tracked down one other friend from the list Angela's parents gave my Dad. His name was Theo and was actually better friends with Angela's ex, Rob. He had known Rob since they were kids. Although both Angela and Rob were pretty upset when they broke up, Theo was certain that Rob had nothing to do with Angela's disappearance. (Plus, his alibi was considered solid during the original FBI investigation.) Other than that, he was able to confirm Gil's last name was Harrison. He also remembered hearing Angela's friends gossiping about the planned weekend getaway. He, like everyone else, was unsure whether or not Angela had indeed gone away with Gil.

Everyone else on the list had graduated and moved away. I would have to try to call them tomorrow in between more internet research. At least now I had a name to go with the photo – assuming that Gil Harrison was his real name.

[

When I got home, I pulled leftovers out of the fridge and popped the container into the microwave. While I waited, I texted Weevil: _finally home, eating dinner_. I didn't get a reply – well, not exactly. But less than a minute later, my phone rang.

I answered, "Hey there," with a smile on my face, but my tiredness apparent in my voice.

"Long day?"

"Yeah, but semi-productive. More to do tomorrow. But I'm gonna need a good night's sleep before diving in."

"Just another boring Friday night at home?" Weevil asked.

"Well, if reheated leftovers and walking Backup qualifies as boring, then yeah. Why? What exciting plans do you have?"

"Putting in some extra hours at work. Doing inventory for my uncle."

"Is that your way of saying that you're trying to figure out how they're stealing from your uncle?"

"You might just have a future as an investigator. By the way, I don't have much of anything on that photo yet."

"I got a name to go with the picture, but it could be an alias. Gil Harrison."

"Alright, I'll keep checking. Gotta go."

[

[

When Dad was out of town for more than a day, Backup seemed to need extra love. This usually meant that he would try to climb into bed with me, but would settle for curling up next to my bed. Sure enough, as my feet went down over the side of my bed this Saturday morning, they landed on my furry friend.

The morning was pretty leisurely – breakfast, shower, walking Backup, catching up on news. It was almost noon when I sat down with my laptop to dig up dirt on Gil Harrison and see what else I could find about Angela's disappearance. I didn't want to take the time for lunch, but I was hungry. I took a minute to grab a couple of cheese sticks from the fridge and a bag of pretzels from the cabinet. That would have to do for now.

After spending a few hours intently focused on research by phone and internet, I had only succeeded in confirming the basics of the FBI case: the other girls, the bust at the club, prostitution ring run out of upstairs. The only info publicly available about Angela amounted to a few articles from when she first went missing. When she was not found at the club, the FBI had no further leads and the case went cold.

There was not much on Gil Harrison, though he did have a California driver's license. As sparse as his records were, it could be an alias, but then again, that could be my cynicism talking.

The only new info my digging turned up was about the club where the missing girls were found. Less than a year after the place was busted for prostitution, there was a drug bust. From what I could find, it was never proven that the drugs were connected to the owners, but they were being sold on the property. The name of the club had changed since then and the corporation name on the paperwork was different – which could mean new management, but not necessarily. It could be the same people operating under a different name or a shell corporation. The point was that there was still a bar in operation at that address.

Guess I knew what my plans were for the night. I went through my closet to choose my wardrobe: boots, miniskirt, camisole top. It would take me close to an hour to do my hair and makeup to match the outfit. Maybe I could recreate the look Meg had given me for the Valentine's dance.

I decided to eat dinner before getting dressed. While I was eating, I did a little more research. When I tracked the new corporation name attached to the club it led me down a long rabbit trail, but there seemed to be a connection between the club owners and a local crime family with the last name Fitzpatrick. If Dad were here, I was certain that he would know all about them and what they were connected to. I briefly thought about calling Leo, but decided not to ask him for any unnecessary favors – I could wait to ask Dad.

When I was getting ready, I had an inkling that maybe this wasn't something I should take on alone. But I convinced myself that I was just gonna go and have a look around. I wouldn't do any snooping or anything dangerous. Obviously, I would leave all that to Dad when he got home.

As I locked the apartment door and headed to my car, I was confident in my ability to handle the situation. Thankfully, my protector was on duty this particular night. Because this was not something I should have tried to handle on my own.

* * *

A/N:

The portion at the end of Chapter 1 (when he meets up with her at the club) fits here in the timeline. Chapter 10 will pick up where Chapter 1 left off.

I borrowed the phrase "Aristotelian confluence of events" from Aaron Sorkin (The West Wing #4.8 "Process Stories").

Thanks again for reading! Until next time ...

~Jen

3 March 2017


	10. Chapter 10: that night at Club Mojo

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Last year while writing Chapter 1, I could see the scenario play out in my head ... vividly. It was disturbing – and definitely would not have made it past network Standards & Practices. After multiple versions of this chapter, I have opted for a less graphic telling of the event.

I challenged myself to convey the scene while keeping some of the action "just out of frame" and leaving some moments "on the cutting room floor" – steering clear of precise description, toning down or altering some things.

 **WARNING:** this chapter contains a sexual situation coerced at gunpoint by a voyeur.

If you prefer not to read that section, scroll down to **[[ SKIP TO HERE ]]** and then read the remainder of the chapter.

* * *

 **EXCERPTS from Chapter 1** that lead into this chapter:

Imagine my surprise when I'm standing in line waiting to get into this club … and a leather-clad arm encircled my waist, as a low voice whispered in my ear: "Just roll with me here, V. I'm your backup tonight."

After some time on the dance floor and faux making out where we were seated at a table, Weevil spotted one of the Fitzpatricks and decided it was time for us to make a quick exit.

Before I knew what was happening, he pushed open the door to the women's restroom. He quickly shut the door behind us and verified that we were alone. Easy to check. None of the stalls had doors.

As someone was turning the doorknob, he pulled me into the first stall. Pressing my back into the wall and pulling my one foot up to rest on the toilet seat, he stepped between my legs. His entire body was flush against mine.

When my eyes widened in surprise, he mouthed the words: _trust me_.

The person had come in, locked the doorknob, and moved the trashcan in front of the door. Then, he came to stand in front of the stall we now occupied.

Weevil pulled my head to the opposite side of his neck as he said to the guy, "My girl and I were looking for a little privacy. You mind?"

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

Although Weevil was trying to block the line of sight between me and our unwelcome visitor, I managed to steal a glance. The guy was nearly a foot taller than Weevil and clearly spent his life at the gym. I was really hoping he would just turn and walk away in response to Weevil's request.

However, the guy said this: "Actually, man, I was enjoying the show out there so much that when I saw the two of you head back here … well, I was planning to watch."

Weevil didn't miss a beat. "Not gonna happen."

He still had a firm hold on me. I leaned into him and prayed that this would end well. So far, the only positive thing was that Weevil did not seem to know him – making him just a random creepy guy who might be on steroids, which was better than if one of the Fitzpatricks had followed us in here. But soon I would be asking myself: how much better?

"I'd like you to reconsider," the guy said as he pulled out a gun.

Correction: a random creepy gym rat who was armed. And now I found myself praying that he was not homicidal.

Then, he told Weevil to slowly empty his pockets and put any weapons on the counter. He said Weevil could have everything back when we were finished.

I took that as a good sign – he did not plan to kill us. However, there were still plenty of bad things that could happen.

He watched me intently while Weevil put a couple knives and other items on the counter. "Wow, your girl is really nervous. Isn't she?" Then, he spoke to me. "Is it me? Is that why you're being shy now? 'Cause on the dance floor, and then in his lap … you weren't shy at all out there."

Although he seemed to want a response, I couldn't find my voice with his gun pointed at me.

He rambled for a while. "I used to watch upstairs. Was happy to pay … you know, just to watch. But then, they took the girls away. And now …" His voice trailed off and he seemed to remember where he was. He shoved Weevil back into the stall with me. "I tell you what … I have a good imagination. I'm just gonna stand over here by the door and listen. I can get off just from the sound – you know, as long as you're man enough to make her to scream," he said as a challenge. He turned to move toward the blocked door. "Keep in mind, I only need one hand to hold the gun. Don't go getting any ideas. When we've all gotten what we came for, I'll leave and you can have your stuff back. Everybody wins!"

Weevil pressed his mouth to my ear, whispering, "How good are you at faking it?"

When I didn't answer, he pulled back far enough to look in my eyes and know my answer. Okay, not the whole answer … which would be: Yeah, those rumors you've undoubtedly heard … well, I wouldn't know where to begin to fake an orgasm.

Our companion had unzipped his pants and was starting without us. "It's awfully quiet over there. Do I need to show you …"

Stroking the side of my face and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, Weevil said to our not-so-friendly voyeur, "No, we got this. My girl's still just … a little shy. Let me get her warmed up and we'll be fine. No need for you to come back over here."

Then, he whispered to me, "My goal is to get us out of here safely. Looks like that means giving him a reason to blow his wad. So ... tell me what I can do to help."

I mouthed, "Help?"

He responded by placing his hand on my right leg which was still up on the toilet. He used his left hand to gently knead that thigh as his right hand ghosted down the left side of my torso, just grazing the side of my breast. This made me gasp softly.

He moved his mouth to my neck and whispered, "Good," before he began to kiss slowly from my collar bone up toward my ear. Then he added, "You're gonna have to give him more than that, though. And turn up the volume."

My body was starting to respond – oh, who am I kidding? It wasn't starting; it was continuing. It had started when he came up behind me in line, continued when we were dancing, and escalated while I was in his lap. And this creep had been watching us. I realize it's a public place, but it felt like an invasion of privacy. It made me feel dirty ... and yet ... at the same time, I was incredibly turned on – by Weevil, not the creep's presence.

The guy seemed satisfied with my moaning and heavy breathing for a minute or so, but then became frustrated again. "Seriously, man. If you don't know what you're doing over there, I can take care of her for you. She obviously wants it." He continued on from there, but my mind was too busy to hear him.

I was becoming increasingly concerned that the guy would come into the stall. He didn't seem like he'd pause long enough to put on a condom – so my brain was spinning scenarios of pregnancy and diseases. But mostly, it was the mere thought of him touching me that made me want to vomit.

My overactive imagination must have caused me to tense up, because Weevil kissed my cheek just in front of my ear and said softly, "Stay _with_ me, V." Then, Weevil growled at him, "No, thanks. We're good." His eyes pleaded with me. So did his words, softly spoken: "What do you want me to do?" His left hand still firmly on the raised leg, he moved his right hand to the inside of that thigh, stroking the skin with his knuckles.

There I was again – lost in those dark chocolate eyes.

He had told me a couple times tonight to trust him – right now his eyes were saying it again.

He had offered me help – and his eyes were communicating that as well.

As he slid his left hand up the back of my thigh and continued under the back of my skirt, I felt his breathing change. Hell, I felt the atmosphere of the room change. It was like when he was leading on the dance floor – all I had to do was decide whether or not to follow.

The knuckles of his right hand continued up the inside of my thigh until he reached the edge of the fabric. His fingertips traced back and forth as he whispered, "Do you want me to do this?"

My eyes had fluttered closed just before I whispered hesitantly, "Yes."

His breath tickling my ear, "Gonna need a more definitive answer than that."

A moan escaped my throat as I stated more emphatically, "Yes."

Still whispering, he said, "Now, look me in the eye and tell me that." Then, he leaned back so he could see my face.

Opening my eyes, I met his steady gaze and playfully begged for the benefit of our audience, "Please."

"I told you I like it when a girl says please," he said and then crossed a boundary into territory neither of us had planned on exploring this particular evening.

I bucked against his hand as he stroked a bundle of nerves that – until that very moment – I did not even know I had. Sensations started to collide with one another. I felt like I would burn up from the inside out.

"Oh, God!" was the first thing I cried out. I'm really not sure what came out of my mouth after that.

My arms had been hanging at my sides. Now, my palms slammed into the wall behind me, my fingers splayed out and then desperately clawed, trying to grab hold of something, anything. I was breathing heavily and moaning incoherently. Apparently, it was enough to make the armed man happy, because there were no further complaints.

At some point, my hands found their way from the wall to Weevil. One hand clamped onto his shoulder for stability and leverage; the other felt at home on the warm skin on the back of his head and neck. When his hand stilled momentarily, I caught my breath before he continued.

What had been surges of sensation now became a hunger like none I had previously known. I felt like I was teetering at the edge of a waterfall for a few incredibly frustrating (but at the same time, delicious) minutes. When I finally went over, pleasure came crashing – wave after exquisite wave, pulsating around his fingers. My head flew back and stayed against the wall until a flash of white light passed behind my eyelids.

 **[[ SKIP TO HERE ]]**

And as amazing as all of that was, I don't think anything could compare with what I saw when I brought my head forward and opened my eyes again to look at Weevil. I moved both my hands to hold the sides of his face and just gazed at him as I came down from a high for which I had no comparison.

The expression on his face was a combination of elation and satisfaction. I don't think I have ever seen anything so beautiful – though you probably don't want to tell a gang leader that he looks beautiful.

Just as I moved to kiss him, the sound of a zipper reminded me where we were.

The creep slid the trash can aside and opened the door. He muttered his thanks as he let the door slam behind him.

That was enough to bring us both back to reality. Weevil slowly moved his hands to my hips and placed a kiss on my forehead. Then, he stepped away.

The loss of contact was almost more than I could bear. I leaned my head back against the wall and turned my face away from him as I straightened my clothing.

Still facing the back of the stall, I heard him picking up his things from the counter. I could tell that he placed a knife in his boot and the remaining things back in his pockets.

I felt, rather than heard, when he stepped toward me.

He stroked my arm with his knuckles as he said, "Sorry, V. We should go." When I turned to look at him, he said again, "I'm sorry."

I'm not sure what he was apologizing for. I'm not sure that he knew. But all I could say was, "Don't. Just don't." I shook my head. "Don't you dare apologize."

I walked over to the sink, looked in the mirror as I washed my hands. Then, I smoothed my hair with damp fingers and blended away the smudges under my eyes. I turned around and gestured to the door, as if to say: Let's go.

He checked the hallway, which I assume was clear because he reached a hand back for me. I have a vague recollection of him pulling me down the hall and out a door into an alley. We half ran, half walked about a block until we got to his bike.

We rode a short distance before he pulled over to make a call – something about getting my car. A couple minutes later, one of the boys pulled up beside us and Weevil handed him something. After that, we rode for a while more.

When we stopped, he helped me off the bike. I was shaking pretty badly. I had been trembling against his back the entire time we were riding. I guess a double shot of adrenaline will do that to you.

I started to walk toward the water. He followed me in silence. As I sat down on the sand, I finally realized we were at Dog Beach.

He took off his leather jacket and put it around me. Then, he sat behind me – one leg on either side of mine – and wrapped me in his embrace.

I leaned back into his chest, allowing myself to be supported by him. Every few minutes, a shudder would run through my body and his hold would become more firm. I'm not sure how long we sat there before the shuddering seemed to provoke tears. They seemed to come from a place so deep … I wasn't quite sure what I was crying about.

Weevil's words were gentle, as if he did not want to startle me. "Remember after I saw Logan kiss you? That talk we had? You said I was scaring you. Now I know how you felt." He placed his lips on my ear. "I need you to talk to me, V."

There was so much that needed to be said, so much he still didn't know. And I had no idea where to start.

I watched as light reflected from the moon played on the waves. It was beautiful and soothing – quite a contrast to the harshness of life.

"Not sure you'd want to hear what I'd have to say." Leaning forward to rest my head on my knees, I mumbled, "I'm not sure I want to hear it."

Before Weevil could reply, the sound of engines arrived in the parking area. After he turned to look in that direction, he said, "I'll be right back."

A couple minutes after I heard the motorcycles leave, Weevil was sitting with me again.

"They brought your car."

I reached out my hand, now realizing what he had handed off before coming here. "My keys?"

He shook his head. "I'll drive you when you're ready to go."

"Why? Because I'm being an emotional girl?"

"It's not a girl thing. Besides, I had them take my bike."

I just nodded at that. We sat quietly while he waited for me to talk.

"I'm not sure where to start."

"Start anywhere. Just talk to me, V."

I continued to stare out at the water as I let the thoughts in my head stream out of my mouth. "I tell my Dad most things – not everything, but most. Not this. Maybe I would tell Mom – if she were around. Even if Lilly were here, it would be weird to …" My voice trailed off with my thoughts. "I'm not left with many options. I recently told Wallace some stuff, but I haven't known him that long … it's not so much an issue of trust with him. More that … well, it's a lot for a new friend to handle." I dropped my gaze and played with the hem of my miniskirt. "There's all these thoughts and emotions rolling around inside … like I'm ready to explode, like I've got my finger in the dam. I'm not sure what happens if I let it go. The pressure might release smoothly and steadily. Or I might shatter in the process. I'm not sure I can deal with that." I turned to look at him. "If I can't deal with it – how would you deal with it? Why would you?"

He did not hesitate before replying, "We'll deal with it together. All of it. Together."

After a long moment, I proceeded to explain – nearly coherently, but not at all linearly – that although the night I was with Duncan had technically been consensual, I was still having difficulty with it for a couple of reasons. Reminding him that: 1) There was a very real possibility that Duncan and I were siblings. And since I had shredded the DNA test results, I was not sure at this point what the truth was. Adding that: 2) The only thing I knew for sure was that I could not remember that night. And well, regardless of whether the memory of that night would be good or bad, it had to be better to _actually_ remember losing one's virginity – right?

He didn't respond at first. He just held my hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. Finally, he said, "So, then …?"

"Duncan and I never … not when we were dating, anyway. Sex wasn't part of our relationship. This whole thing has my emotions so tangled." I turned to look at him for a second before looking away again. "Tonight was … a new experience for me. Look … I know my reputation, but I haven't even dated much since Duncan."

"Veronica." He dropped his head and then looked up at me. "I'm s—"

I cut him off. "Don't. I told you earlier. Don't apologize." Looking into his eyes, I tried to find the words that would communicate what I was feeling. "The … uh, circumstances were less than ... um, but the experience itself? – that was …" I leaned toward him, my shoulder against his chest, "… amazing. I'm not sorry it happened. I know that might sound strange after what I've been through, including everything tonight."

He traced the side of my face with his fingertips, his hand coming to rest on my jaw. His thumb stroked my bottom lip as his gaze alternated between my eyes and my lips. Then, just when I was sure that he had no intention to, he kissed me. With such tenderness. It was as if he was attempting to remove the sting of every hurtful experience I had ever had.

Finally, he tried again to explain, "What I meant … I don't know how to say it … that I wish I could change the bad things that have happened to you. You deserve better than the shit you've had to deal with, V."

"And you don't?"

"We're not talking about me."

"Why not? You're better than the hell storm that surrounds you. You know that, right?"

He shook his head, but seemed to know I wouldn't let him off so easily. "Keep telling me. Maybe I'll believe you … someday."

We continued to sit there on the beach in each other's arms for at least another hour.

I flinched as I started to doze off. "Mmm." I snuggled into his shoulder before saying, "We should probably get going."

"Yeah. You're probably right."

We stood and brushed off the sand. I tried to give his jacket back to him, but he placed it on my shoulders again.

As we approach my car, he began to tell me what he had been able to find out.

"I had planned to tell you when I saw you tomorrow. But I guess that would be today now, wouldn't it?" He unlocked and opened the passenger door for me to get in. Then, he walked around to the driver's side door, which I had leaned over to unlock. After he started the car and turned down the volume of the radio, he continued. "I checked with some people I know and they recognized the guy in the photo. Couldn't remember his name. Even when I told them the name you had, most didn't recognize it. He hasn't been seen around town for a couple years."

"Anything else?"

"A while back, he was connected to a crime boss in Vegas, but decided to start his own business. Pissed some people off in the process. A few of them were more than happy to tell me what they thought. At some point, he met someone from Neptune who talked about the town, the college, the beach – the beautiful people with money to burn. Also talked about guys crossing the border to TJ for a good time. They decided to supply the product here, where there was demand. They owned the bar and operated out of the upstairs. Sounds like they initially got linked up with the Fitzpatricks for the drugs to keep the girls … _compliant_. The Fitzpatricks must have found out what was going on and that they weren't being cut in on profit they felt they were entitled to. Word on the street was that they were behind the anonymous tip that led to the upstairs operation of Club Mojo being busted."

"My research shows that they are connected to the current owners."

"I heard that too. That's why I had my boys following you and why I showed up there tonight." He paused and then added, "When the Fitzpatricks took over the club, they started dealing drugs out of the place."

"Yeah, there was a drug bust there about a year ago."

"If you believe the perv in the bathroom, they are no longer running the upstairs business. But they are more than likely still running drugs through there. And who knows what else. The Fitzpatricks have a variety of business interests. Almost none of them are legal."

As he pulled up to my apartment building, I was processing everything I had found out. "So … Angela disappeared around the same time as Gil – possibly together. Gil is most likely not his real name. He was connected to Club Mojo prior to the other girls being found there – which means she could have been there at some point even though she was not there at the time the FBI rescued the others. Oh yeah – and the Fitzpatricks could be involved."

He had parked my car while I was still talking. He left the radio on. The station was currently playing a ballad sung in Spanish.

As I finished my rambling summary of the investigation to date, I added a random thought. "I like this. I don't think I've heard it before, but … mm … it's beautiful. Sorry, I got distracted ... translating the lyrics."

He just smiled at me as we listened to the final chorus of the song. When it had finished, he turned off the car.

Pulling out his phone, he hit a button and speed dialed someone – I assumed it was Felix. "Hey, gonna need that ride now. Mm-hmm. Half hour? Yeah. Thanks." The phone clicked shut as he said to me, "Do me a favor? Don't go taking on the Fitzpatricks by yourself." After I nodded my agreement, he shook his head as he asked, "How many times do I have to tell you to call me when you need help?"

"Apparently, a few more times."

"Maybe the problem is … we have different definitions of when you need help."

"Maybe we do." Seeing the wordless warning in his eyes, I said, "I'll try not to put myself in harm's way ... unnecessarily."

"I would greatly appreciate that, m'lady ... seeing as I'm rather fond of you." He sighed as he leaned over to give me a slow deep kiss that seemed to last for days. Then, he asked, "Walk you to your door?"

It turned out that my bodyguard could be quite a gentleman. Not exactly your standard issue 'knight in shining armor,' but a girl could get used to this kind of thing. Even if I don't consider myself a 'damsel in distress.'

As we stood on my welcome mat, he gave me a quick kiss and asked, "Am I still going to see you later?"

"Text me after you get some sleep. We'll make plans," I said before yawning.

"Since I spent the past couple days on your investigation, those plans will need to include help with an English assignment and reviewing for a math test."

"That can be arranged." I took my keys from Weevil and found the one that would open my door. He waited until I was inside with the door locked before he walked away.

* * *

A/N:

Thanks for reading! Until next time ...

~Jen

5 April 2017


	11. Chapter 11: the next day

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Continues leading to my modified version of the Season 1 finale.

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

I only slept a few hours before Backup was nudging my arm, begging to go for a walk. After that, it was pointless to try to go back to sleep. In quick succession, I took a shower, ate breakfast, and sent a text to Weevil telling him that I'd be at the office.

About an hour later, I was sitting behind my desk when my phone rang. Assuming that it would be Weevil, I did not look at the screen before answering. I was glad I only said a platonic, "Hello."

"Honey, I'm home. Where are you?" my father asked.

"At the office. Checking messages. Doing some filing."

"I'll pick up some lunch and join you in a little while."

When he arrived, he was trying to act casual, but his tone and actions seemed strange. And strained.

"Dad, something you want to know? Just come out and ask."

"When I got back to the apartment, one of the neighbors mentioned that she had insomnia last night … and she happened to see you come home rather late." He paused to take a bite of his lunch and chewed slowly while watching my face for any little reaction. "By the description I was given, you were escorted to the door by someone who bears a striking resemblance to Eli Navarro. Anything you care to tell me?"

"Well, I had planned to tell you later …"

"How much later?"

"Later today," I said as I rolled my eyes at him. "Recently, Weevil's done me a few favors. Last night, I was following up on a lead – and before you say anything, I know that I should have waited for you. Weevil realized before I did that I was headed for trouble. He followed me and he helped me out of a potentially dangerous situation."

His displeasure was visible, but for the moment, controlled. "Veronica, I don't know where to start. You're using the words 'favor' and 'help' and 'dangerous' while talking about you and a gang leader."

While he paused for effect, I interrupted. "The favors – that's partly why I've been tutoring him, in exchange …"

Before I could finish that thought, as if on cue, Weevil came in the door of the office with a notebook and textbook under his arm. As he pushed the door open and turned to see us sitting at my desk, he said, "Seems like I may have caught you at a bad time." When neither of us said anything, he continued. "You said I could drop by today … to have you look over my assignments and review for the test this week." The way he said it was part explanation, part question. He was trying to read the situation he had walked in on.

"Eli."

"Sheriff."

"My daughter tells me that you were of some assistance to her last night."

I nodded and smiled at Weevil, hoping he could read my mind that he should tell the truth. Just not the whole truth.

"Yes, sir. She was doing some detective work. One of my guys saw her heading into a bad part of town. He called me. I wasn't far away so I went to check on her. In her defense, she didn't realize 'til she got there that she shouldn't have gone alone. I got her out of the place without anyone getting injured. She was pretty shaken up. Even after we sat at the beach and talked for a while, I didn't like the idea of her driving herself home. So I drove her car."

"And walked her to the door," my father added.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay …" Dad was processing what he had heard while looking back and forth between our faces. "But what happened that was so bad? You said she was shaken up to the extent that you didn't want her driving and you made a point of saying that you got her out without anyone being injured. What happened?"

Weevil looked at me, indicating that I should fill in the gaps.

I jumped back into the conversation. "There was a guy there who apparently liked how I looked in my miniskirt. He was making lewd suggestions, which he emphasized with his gun."

My father's eyes bugged out. "Gun?!"

"Please, calm down. I'm fine. Weevil managed to persuade the guy to find a different outlet for his deviant ideas. And as he already said, nobody was injured."

"Persuade?! What does that mean?"

I punctuated each syllable as I said, "He used his words." Seeing the skeptical look on Dad's face, I continued, "Weevil did not hit him or use weapons of any kind."

"And you're really okay?"

"Yes. Though I was – and still am – a bit freaked out by everything."

"If you'll excuse us for a moment, Eli," my father said as he took me by the arm and steered me into his office, shutting the door behind him.

Dad was pacing and rubbing his face. Finally, he said, "I'm not at all happy about this."

"What exactly?"

His arms flailing around as he said, "This. You spending time with him. Him helping you. This."

Anger rose up in me. "Dad, you should be thanking him! Yell at me if you want – I deserve it. I was stupid to go there by myself. I was stupid to follow up on the lead while you were out of town. Stupid to follow up on it at all." As I continued to speak, my voice rose until I was shouting. "So … yell at me. But you should be thanking him. He didn't hesitate before throwing himself between me and danger." I took a deep breath before closing my argument with one last statement: "I got home safely last night for one reason – him."

Dad was quiet for a minute. Then, he walked past me to the door. At the sound of the door opening, Weevil shot up out of his chair.

Dad glanced down at the textbook on the desk. "Mathematics, huh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why do you need a tutor? What I mean is, why do you care about your grade enough to get a tutor?"

"I promised my grandma I'd graduate. Math is … a bit of an obstacle."

Dad seemed to be considering Weevil's words – and whether or not he believed them. "What do you want to do then … after graduation?"

Before answering, Weevil shot a glance over Dad's shoulder, perhaps hoping for assistance from me. "Well, I'm a good mechanic and I enjoy the work. I think I'd like to maybe run my own shop someday."

"Legal?"

He looked my Dad directly in the eye as he replied. "Yes, sir."

"Is it possible …?"

"…for me to change?" Weevil cut him off, the line of questioning was getting under his skin.

Dad softened his stance and sighed. "For you to get out … in one piece."

"Complicated, but possible."

This seemed to satisfy my father for the moment. "I'll be out for a few hours, but I'll be back by dinner time. That should give you plenty of time to get through the perils of high school homework." Turning to Weevil he added, "I'm not ready to say that I'm okay with you spending time with my daughter, but I respect the fact that you want to keep your promise to your grandmother. And well, thank you for last night – for following your instincts and being there to protect Veronica." He turned to kiss me on the cheek. "I'll see you later for daddy-daughter time."

[

After Dad left, Weevil and I were sitting on the couch working on the review section for his upcoming test.

He reached over to take my hand, mostly to get my attention. "You seem … to be doing better today."

"A good night's sleep and going toe-to-toe with my dad … can be quite invigorating." I was making a conscious choice to avoid conversation that might bring anything to the surface – where it would be detectable – before I had to spend the evening with Dad. Looking over his calculations, I said, "Okay, good. You're fine with the more straightforward problems. Let's move on to something more complex. Read me the first word problem."

Weevil groaned, but complied. The aggravation apparent in his voice as he read: "A farmer built a 960 sq. ft. fenced-in area next to his barn. The 24'x40' enclosure had fencing on three sides. One side of the barn served as one of the 40-foot sides of the area. How many feet of fence did he build?" He slammed the book down on the coffee table. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"You can handle this. I know the phrasing can make it confusing, but …"

"V, that ain't the problem." He laid the book in my lap and stabbed his finger at the page. "It says he _built_ the fence. Past tense! Already done. Why the hell do I need to tell the farmer how much fence he built? He knows. And even if he doesn't, what the fuck does it matter?! The job's done."

I clamped a hand over my mouth in a failed attempt to hold back my laughter.

"You're laughing at me, V?"

"I'm sorry. But it's funny. What you just said is funny!"

He didn't look amused. "I'll give you something to laugh about." He began to tickle me, mercilessly.

I was trying to say: please, stop. But I could not quite get the words out.

"I'll stop, if you stop laughing at me."

After he finally stopped, I regained my composure and smiled at him as I said, "I wasn't making fun of you. It was an expression of happiness."

"My frustration makes you happy?"

"No, what makes me happy is that you understood the question – as poorly worded and idiotic as it is. You caught the details on the first reading! This is progress. Serious progress."

"You're laughing again." He was glaring at me – unconvincingly.

"Yes. Happy laughter." I pointed at him as I warned, "No more tickling, mister."

"How about a kiss for every correct answer?" he asked, flirtatiously negotiating his terms.

I responded by shaking my head. Then, I picked up his pencil and handed it to him, saying, "The farmer may not need to know how many feet of fence he built. And you may not care. But how about you calculate it anyway … for me?"

Now, he was the one who laughed, because I tilted my head and flipped my hair.

I looked over his English assignment while he was working the math problem. He had started a journal entry about The Outsiders with a quote I recognized from the end of the book: "I wondered for a long time how to start that theme, how to start writing about something that was important to me. And I finally began like this: …" I smiled at that. I had always liked how S.E. Hinton ended the novel by having the last sentence wrap around to become the first.

After reading it, I placed his notebook on the table. I told him I was going to take a nap while he finished the review problems. Truthfully, it was an excuse to close my eyes and ponder what he had written. I didn't intend to fall asleep, but I did. He woke me up to check his math.

Looking at the problems he had done, I said, "You still have a tendency to skip over steps, not show your work. But you seem to be understanding this section. You're getting the right answer most of the time."

"How'd my journal look?"

"When is it due?"

"End of this week. Why? Is it that bad?"

"No. A few spelling and grammar things to clean up – nothing much. Even though it's not a formal essay or paper, still good to get in the habit of proof-reading." I hesitated to add the rest of what I was thinking.

He sensed my hesitation. "Something else you want to say?"

I tapped the cover of his notebook indicating that I was thinking about what he had written. "Do you mind answering a few questions? I think it might help clarify your thoughts … since you said that she mentioned taking some of these journals to use as a starting point for essay writing later."

"Ask away."

I paused briefly before speaking. "Since the novel deals with conflict between the 'haves' and the 'have-nots' … I'm just wondering what you thought. Not what you are willing to put on paper for a teacher to read, but what you really think."

His expression was difficult to read. He seemed hesitant to reveal his thoughts aloud, but at the same time, there was an eagerness to be understood. "Well, yeah, I mean, the book's old, but Hinton gets it, you know. Adults don't always get it."

"Well, she was 18 years old when it was published in 1967 … and she started writing it a few years before that. Inspired by things that happened where she lived."

"That explains it." Then, he was quiet for a moment. "I felt like I knew them – the greasers. I could picture their neighborhood and their homes. The bond between the guys, who were their _real_ family. They looked out for each other, especially Johnny. But Johnny looked out for Pony because he was younger."

"He did. Even when he was dying – he left that letter for him." I was trying to gently lead the conversation.

"Yeah, he mentions the poem. I remember hearing Pony recite it in the movie and I liked the sound of it – you know, the flow of the words. But the year we watched it in class … the teacher tried to get us to talk about it. I didn't get the answers everyone else was giving. They all focused in on the _gold_ part – the beauty of a new beginning and all that. But I got stuck on the line 'Eden sank to grief.' I didn't say anything though."

"What would you have said?"

He didn't immediately reply, considering how to explain. "My grandma makes us all go to church. Not every week, but pretty regular. So I know that paradise – the Garden of Eden – came before 'the Fall.' Frost used the word _sank_ instead of _fall_ , but whatever, same thing. I think he was saying that … even paradise fell. And well, _grief_ … that loss was sad." He stopped himself and seemed to become agitated. "I get the thing about sunsets being the same from both sides of town and that 'things are rough all over' … but when Johnny writes to Pony to 'stay gold' … well, it made me mad."

"Why?"

"Because he can't. None of us can. Even paradise fell – and why? Because Eve was convinced by the Serpent that she knew better than God. That's the problem with this world. Too many of the people in positions of power – the ones who get to make decisions – are convinced that they know better. The rest of us have to live with the consequences of their actions."

I shifted away from that for the moment. "What about Dallas and his credo that if you get tough, nothing can touch you?"

"Well, we both know that's not true. It's just a short-term fix in the middle this long-term hell. If someone really wants to take you down, they'll find a way."

I thought he might continue, but when he didn't, I asked, "Who do you identify with, then?"

He shrugged. "A little of each of them, I guess. I mean, I get Darry feeling responsible for the guys. I get Pony … I was more like him a few years ago than I am now. He talked about seeing too many of the wrong things after years on the streets. See too much and it's not that you grow up too fast … it's that it changes you, how you think. Decisions become about survival. Problem is that there are different rules."

"You mean for the 09ers and everyone else?"

"Yeah, but more than that. There are laws … and there's rules at school. There's commandments at church and rules at home. There's the unspoken code between one neighborhood and another. Too many rules. At some point, you decide who your family is – your blood family but also friends and your …"

Finishing his thought, I said: "Gang."

"Hell yeah. When shit happens – and it will, 'cause it's one of the few things that's inevitable – you take care of the people close to you. Problem is that when shit happens … wait, let me find it." He pulled out his paperback copy and began to page through the novel.

I tried so hard not to squeal like a girl when I said, "You highlighted and made notes in the margins." I was so excited that I gave him a big hug and giggled.

"Happy laughter?"

I pulled back to look him in the eye. "Happy laughter."

He shrugged. "Sometimes, I listen to suggestions," he said, trying to act like this was perfectly normal behavior. "Here it is. Ponyboy is explaining that it shouldn't matter how someone looks, but it does: 'That's why people don't ever think to blame the Socs and are always ready to jump on us. We look hoody and they look decent.' Damn straight – you and I both know that Neptune is filled with people who look _decent_ , but are really fucked up."

"No argument here."

"Another thing that made it real to me is that not all of them were enemies. I mean, Cherry talked with Pony about sunsets and stuff. And Soda knew people who weren't greasers … from school and working at the DX. And it talks about Darry knowing the head Soc at the rumble – even says 'they used to be friends.' No matter how divided things feel, it's nearly impossible to live in a town like this and not have contact with … other people." He was still for a moment and I could practically see a thought pass across his face. Then, he shook his head as he picked up my hand and kissed it. "Think how far back we go. In a way, this," he gestured back and forth between us, "was inevitable."

I picked up his journal again. "How soon will she have you start working on essays?"

"A month, maybe."

"She pick the book or did you?"

"There was a list. I recognized the title. I was supposed to read it a few years ago, but we watched the movie in class – so I just …"

"Bluffed your way through the test?"

"Yeah. But Miss James suggested I read it, said she'd like to talk to me about it. She actually gave me this." He pointed at the highlighted book on the table. "When we got this assignment, I remembered it was buried in my locker."

"Logical pick." I nodded approvingly and then pointed to where I had written down some notes during his last comments. "Decent looking versus good character. If I were you, I'd start there for your essay. Or maybe – just for yourself – write more about it, even if you don't show it to anyone. Ask yourself: Do …?" I cut myself off, seeing that he was becoming uncomfortable. I wondered if I'd pushed too hard. "Anyway, you can see the notes I made."

He got a serious look on his face like he was about to say something, but then changed his mind. He cleared his throat and said, "I'm gonna get going before the Sheriff gets back. Don't want to overstay my welcome." We kissed goodbye while still seated side by side on the couch. Standing, he asked, "Call me later?"

"After dinner … when I walk Backup?"

As he stepped toward the door, he gestured to his books. "Thanks, again."

"Just trading favors. Right?" I winked.

"Right." He laughed. A happy laugh.

I liked his laugh. I found myself wondering how many people got to hear him laugh like that.

There in the doorway, he quoted from The Outsiders: "'What's the safest thing to be when one is met by a gang of social outcasts in an alley?'"

As I stood and moved toward him, I quoted the correct response: "'Another social outcast!'"

After giving me one last lingering kiss, he added one more quote: "'You dig okay.'"

[

I finished up the filing. Then, I checked to be sure that I was up-to-date on my own school work. Since I was, I rewarded myself by reading about the newest beauty products and latest fashion trends in a magazine.

By the time I had reached the third perfume sample insert, Dad had returned with dinner – lasagna from Luigi's, one of my favorites. Guess he wasn't that angry with me.

He asked for a complete progress report on the new case. I told him what I had so far. I made a point of highlighting the info Weevil had been able to get. I also emphasized that my work the past few days meant that he would begin the week with a head start.

"Veronica." He wiped his mouth on his napkin, took a drink, and sighed. "I'd like to say that I'm proud and leave it at that, but I can't. You made a lot of progress on this while I was gone and from a business perspective, that's great. But you absolutely should not have tried to handle this on your own. I think you know that now. I think you know how unbelievably lucky you are that someone was there to help you."

"Dad –"

He cut me off. "I'm glad you're okay. But let me be clear … you're done on this. I'm taking over."

"No argument. But what about the other thing?"

"What _other_ thing?"

"Weevil. Me tutoring him. Us spending time together."

"When he was over at the apartment that night watching tv? I told you I didn't like it. Every time he has been here – with or without books in hand – I have made my displeasure clear."

"Yes, you have. But now, I'm asking: has your attitude changed at all?"

He did not answer immediately. "I'm going to adopt a wait-and-see attitude." He continued eating in silence.

When he had finished his dinner, he carried the trash to the kitchen. As he passed my desk on the way to his office, he said, "Why don't you head home. I'm gonna make a few calls. I'll be there soon."

[

I stopped at home to pick up the four-legged member of the Mars family. When I arrived at the beach and parked, Backup was anxious to get out of the car. He would have to wait while I dialed Weevil's number.

"Hey there, beautiful. Finished with daddy-daughter time already?"

"Yeah. You have time to talk?" I asked as I put on Backup's leash.

Before I reached for the handle, my car door opened.

Weevil clicked his phone shut. "Yes, I do. In fact, I have time for a walk."

"You're not stalking me, are you?" I asked jokingly.

"No, that would be Logan."

"Not funny. By the way, I think he finally got the message."

"How'd you manage that?"

"Told him I was seeing someone."

"You didn't tell him who, did you?"

"No, of course not. Wallace and Dad are definitely ahead of him on my list of people to tell."

"Speaking of your Dad … how'd things go after I left?"

"He only really knows that we've been spending time together and about us trading favors including tutoring, but his exact words were that he'd take a 'wait-and-see attitude' about it." I said this with the note of positivity it deserved.

"Considering how upset I expected him to be about last night – you going there alone …"

"Not to mention the neighbor telling him about seeing you at our door in the wee small hours of the morning." I watched his face as he reacted to that information. "Yeah, considering everything, he's being pretty reasonable."

I locked the car, he took Backup's leash from me, and we walked down the beach.

[

During the drive home, my thoughts were meandering. I kept coming back to the fact that after everything that had happened, Dad and I were actually happy. I mean, business was steady and he had Mrs. Fennel. I was keeping up my grades (which was good, because I would need scholarship money to add to my savings for college) and things with Weevil were going well. When was the last time things were this good? I mean, not perfect (there was still work to do on Lilly's murder investigation), but pretty damn good for life in Neptune.

While waiting at a red light, I caught a glimpse of myself in the rear-view mirror – I was smiling. I realized that recently I had been smiling a lot more.

As Backup and I bounded up the stairs toward the apartment, I tried to stop smiling – you know, as an experiment. I couldn't. I couldn't stop smiling.

That realization was followed by happy laughter.

* * *

A/N:

A little calm before the storm. Tune in next time ... as Veronica & Co. close in on Lilly's killer.

Thanks for reading! Until next time …

~Jen

9 April 2017


	12. Chapter 12: S1 Ep22

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

This chapter begins with the last scene of #1.21 "A Trip to the Dentist" and moves on into #1.22 "Leave It to Beaver."

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

Backup was still being playful as we stumbled through the door. I was laughing as I entered and said, "Honey, I'm home!"

Having seen Dad's car in the parking lot, I expected to hear his voice reply.

Instead, it was my mother's voice: "So am I, honey. So am I."

The sight of them sitting on the couch together was both normal and abnormal, but definitely odd and unsettling. I closed the door as Mom came over to give me a hug, which I returned guardedly. Although I had not had much time to think about it lately, it did occasionally cross my mind that it seemed, by her radio silence, that Mom did not want her family involved in her recovery. Yet, here she was.

"Oh, Veronica, it's so good to see you," she said affectionately as she smoothed my hair.

It occurred to me that this must seem rather strange to Dad, since all he knew was that she ran off. Unless she had reached out to him before showing up (judging by his body language, she had not), then not only would Dad have been surprised to see her, but he would have had no knowledge that she went to rehab. Because that was another thing I had kept from my father.

Needing a minute to myself, I quickly came up with an excuse to leave the room. "Let me drop my jacket and stuff in my room. I'll be right back."

I walked straight back into my bathroom and closed the door, immediately texting Weevil: _my mom just came home_.

His reply: _that's a good thing, right?_

 _Not sure._

 _Call later?_

I typed the words _I'll try_ and went back out into the living room.

They filled me in on the conversation they had been having before I got home – which was basically Mom informing him that she had gone to rehab and was now ready to come home. By the look on his face, he had not yet decided if he felt that was a good idea.

In the course of Mom's rambling, she let it slip that she couldn't thank me enough (she may have used the words 'could never repay me') for what I had done for her. This, of course, did not go unnoticed by Dad, who then wanted to know what she meant. He was clearly unhappy to find out that my college fund really was empty. Also, he seemed conflicted about where the money had gone. I don't know if Mom picked up the signs, but it was obvious to me that Dad did not trust her.

Dad abruptly stood and walked into the kitchen. He began to put fruit, bottled water, and a few other items in a bag. As he did this, he explained the plan he had decided on. "I just got home from two back-to-back business trips. I am on the verge of breaking one case wide open and have some solid leads on another. I've disrupted Veronica's routine enough already. So although I'm truly glad that you went to rehab and seem to be doing well, I'm not ready to have you back here at home … yet."

"Keith ..."

He waved off her attempt to speak. He spoke firmly, but kindly. "Lianne, if you had included us – your family – in the process, then we would have had an opportunity to work through this together, to communicate, to rebuilt trust. But you didn't." He looked away before continuing. "You were gone a long time … long enough for us to begin to move on with our lives. We're gonna need a little time to get to know one another again."

Mom's expression was a combination of sadness and hope. She looked like she had something to say, but held back.

Dad looked at both of us in a way that made it clear he was the adult in the room – and was not one bit happy to have been left out of the loop on this one. To Mom, he said, "I'm going to drive you to the little hotel down the street, the one next to the grocery store." Holding up the bag he had just packed, "Here are a few things 'til you can go shopping. I'll pay for a couple nights upfront. And we'll plan to make dinner here tomorrow night … spend some time together and see how things go."

He didn't really give Mom a chance to say much of anything. He grabbed his car keys and began walking toward the door with her suitcase. Turning to me, he said, "I'll be right back."

[

When Dad returned about half an hour later, we had a long conversation about many things: my college money; me keeping secrets from him and trying to handle things on my own (a recurring theme of late); how I felt about the possibility of Mom moving home and to a lesser extent, how he felt about it. He asked me not to say anything to Wallace for right now – he wanted to talk to Alicia first.

Once we had all of that settled (or at least as settled as we could for now), he told me that the last trip he made was to interview a witness who could provide an alibi for Abel Koontz, thereby proving that he could not have killed Lilly. He would be turning over the information to the authorities. It would probably make the news in the next few days. He wanted me to be prepared for any potential hassling that might result from the murder case being in the news again.

For a moment, I wondered if Dad had (or would) give Mom the same heads up – because not only was Dad about to prove that Koontz was innocent, he was about to implicate the Kanes' involvement in a coverup. How would she feel about all of this? Would she end up running again?

I got a text from Weevil asking if I _needed_ to talk. Normally, he would ask if I had time to talk. The difference in his wording tonight was not lost on me. I did _need_ to talk and it was sweet of him to offer a listening ear.

After letting Dad know where I would be, I walked down to the patio area that looks out over the ocean. It was a good place to think through things and in this case, to make a phone call without being overheard. I wasn't surprised when Weevil picked up after a single ring.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about stuff with my Mom yet, but I wanted to hear your voice."

"We could finish the conversation we were having on the beach earlier."

I smiled. "We could?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to make sure you're clear on the fact that I get why your dad was grilling me about the tutoring and plans after graduation. It bothered me at the time, but I get it. If I have a daughter someday, I'll probably be even more protective."

An image of Weevil with a little girl popped into my head immediately. I found myself wondering what he would be like as a father. While I was lost in thought, he continued talking.

"We didn't get to the other topic."

"What would that be?" I asked.

The tone in his voice screamed that he was trying to make light of something that was in fact important to him. "Look, I know we're not dating, not really. But we have been making out quite a bit. Recently, you … established guidelines … but then … last night."

"Yeah," I said slowly as I exhaled. "Last night was …" I sighed heavily.

His tone matched mine as he said, "Yeah, it was."

"Is it okay if I don't try to figure this out right now?"

He didn't press the issue any further.

[

[

The next morning, I listened to the radio while getting ready for school. The DJ probably thought it was funny to start off my week with The Bangles' "Manic Monday." Although I was not amused, I did sing along while choosing my clothes: "… it takes so long just to figure out what I'm gonna wear …"

As the song was ending, the DJ added a piece of trivia that I found interesting. It had actually been written by Prince.

Hmm. The more you know.

[

Weevil was waiting in the parking lot for me when I arrived at school. He walked over to my car, casually asking a loaded question, "Everything alright?" After I nodded, he leaned over to whisper in my ear, "Wish I was kissing you right now." Then, he handed me a piece of paper, winked, and walked away.

As I walked slowly toward the building, I looked at the paper he had given me. It was a list of days and times – his schedule for the week, when he was working and when he had free time. A short note at the bottom explained that he figured my schedule would be crazy this week – with Dad back from his trip and my Mom coming home – but he did not want me to forget to make time for him. My heart was racing and melting at the same time.

[

Fearing that I would accidentally say something to Wallace about Mom being back, I avoided going to lunch. Instead, I went to the computer lab.

I thought that I was alone until I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard the words, "Hello, beautiful."

Nearly jumping out of my chair, I said, "Careful. We're in an empty room, but the door is open."

He sat down next to me. In a sultry tone, he asked, "Wanna go find a dark corner?"

I smiled at his words … and the thought of what we could be doing. "Not right now."

He held up a CD that was simply labelled: V.

"What's that?"

"The other night … the song on the radio that you liked. And a few others."

Before I could stop the sound from escaping my mouth, I said, "Aww!" followed by a little squeal as I took it from his hand.

He raised an eyebrow as he said, "You tell _anyone_ , I'll deny it."

" _Seriously_? Who'd believe me?"

He smiled that too-damn-cute crooked smile of his. Becoming more serious, he asked, "How are things with your Mom?"

"Dad checked her into a hotel last night, so I didn't see her this morning. But we're supposed to have dinner together tonight."

He studied my face. "Hotel?"

"I think he had started to accept the fact that she wouldn't be coming back. Plus, he didn't know that she had gone to rehab. So this is a bit … out of the blue. Then, there's the fact that he's been seeing Wallace's mom."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And I'm not supposed to tell to him about Mom being back 'til Dad has a day or so to figure out what, if anything, he is going to tell Mrs. Fennel. Don't say anything in front of Wallace."

"Got it." He glanced toward the door to make sure we were still alone before asking, "Did you look at my note?"

"Yes. Definitely not tonight – family dinner, as I already said. I'll have to get back to you about the rest of the week."

I checked the time and began to gather my things. We walked toward the doorway, but Weevil stopped me before I could go out into the hallway. He shut the door and pressed my back up against it as he kissed me.

When he stepped away from me and reached for the doorknob, I reached out to wipe my lipstick from his lips. Then, I asked, "How long before our friends figure out what's going on?"

"Pretty sure Felix suspects. I'll have to tell him soon."

"How soon is soon?"

"I don't know. This week?"

"I need to talk to Wallace, too. Give me a day or two. And then, we'll sort this out."

"If Felix asks?"

"Then, tell him." I couldn't change the fact that many things in my life were complicated, but this did not need to be one of them. "Simple, honest, direct – it really does make things less complicated."

[

When I got home after school, Mom was sitting by our door with a couple bags of groceries.

She stood when she saw me approaching. Picking up the bags, she explained, "I was in the store and decided we should make tacos. We always had fun in the kitchen on taco nights. Didn't we?"

I unlocked the door and walked inside. "Sounds good, Mom. Why don't you get started? I'm gonna drop my books on my desk." And take a moment to prepare myself, I thought to myself.

"Got a lot of homework tonight, honey?" Mom called from the kitchen.

"Yeah. I figure if I help you with food prep before dinner, then I'll do homework while you and Dad do cleanup."

"Good plan," she said as she began to unload the contents of the bags.

When I returned from my room, she asked me to find appropriate music to go with our dinner.

"I may just have something." I turned on my heel and went back to my room to get the CD Weevil had given me. "A friend at school just gave me this. Pretty sure most, if not all, the songs are in Spanish. I haven't listened to it yet."

"Put it in. We'll give it a try."

Dad arrived as we were cutting onions with spoons hanging out of our mouths – you know, to prevent tears. He pointed at the stereo and asked what we were listening to.

Mom replied before I could. "Dinner soundtrack courtesy of one of Veronica's friends."

Dad gave me a sideways glance that told me he knew who it was from, but wasn't going to bring it up with Mom here tonight.

While he got out silverware and dishes to set the table, Mom mentioned that she didn't have a key and asked if he could give her one – so she wouldn't have to sit outside waiting for me next time.

Dad avoided making eye contact with her, saying that he didn't have a spare and would have to find time to get a copy made. I knew he was lying about not having an extra key; I suspected he was just being cautious about letting her back in our lives.

After we all had our fill of tacos, I excused myself. "I'm going to leave cleanup duty to you two while I wrestle my homework into submission."

Safely in my room with the door closed, I flopped on my bed and texted Weevil.

 _Family dinner done. Sorta weird but fun cooking with Mom again._

 _What did you have?_

 _Tacos._

 _Need to eat at my house._

 _Soon._

 _Time to talk?_

 _Not now. Homework. Maybe later._

A little over an hour later, Mom knocked on my door as she opened it. "Dad's taking me back to the hotel. I wanted to say goodnight."

When Dad returned from dropping Mom off, he told me that the Koontz story was going to hit the morning paper and that he planned to talk to Alicia tomorrow evening. When I asked what he was going to say, he said he hadn't completely decided.

"You mean, you haven't decided about Mom. I can tell by the way you've been acting with her that you don't quite trust her."

"You're right. I don't know, honey. I can't put my finger on it, but something doesn't sit right with me. I know I'm not comfortable having her live here or even giving her a key. Not yet, anyway. But I can't put off talking to Alicia." He looked down and then back up at my face. "How do you feel about all this?"

"If you'd have asked me a few months ago, I'd have said that you need to give her a chance, that I wanted my family back. But I see how happy you've been with Mrs. Fennel and I really started to accept our new life, that this is our family now. And …"

"And what?"

"I agree with you about Mom. I think something's off."

"Well, I'm going to bed. I want to get to the office early tomorrow. See you there after school?"

He kissed my forehead and walked into his room.

I pulled out my phone and texted Weevil to see if he could talk. After closing the door to my bedroom, I went into my bathroom, closed that door, and turned on the faucet to cover the sound of my voice.

We didn't talk long, but I wanted to fill him in on what was happening with Mom and Dad. I also wanted to warn him about the article that would be in the paper tomorrow.

"That why your Dad was out of town? A break in the case?"

"Yeah."

"Does that mean you know who did it?"

"No, just able to prove that Koontz didn't." I waited for him to reply, but he remained quiet. "I just wanted you to hear it from me."

"How long have you known?" There was an edge in his voice.

"Dad told me some of it last night. The rest … just before I called you."

His tone softened as he asked, "Now what?"

"Now, we go back to all the original statements and evidence. Try to figure out what got missed."

"Anything I can do?"

"Honestly, at the moment, the best thing you can do is stay as far away from it as possible. Don't give Lamb or the Kanes any reason to go after you."

"But if you find yourself in need of help?"

"I will call you. Immediately."

"I hope you mean that."

"I do. I promise."

After we said goodnight, I went out to the living room to retrieve the CD which I had left in the stereo. I took it back into my room to listen to as I fell asleep.

The first song was the one that had played on the radio as we sat in the car late Saturday night – just two nights ago. Simply allowing the melody and the Spanish lyrics to wash over me, the song was beautiful and moving. But as my mind translated and my heart felt the meaning of the words, the fact that he had burned me a copy of the song meant so much more.

 _And you arrived_

 _And I was amazed at the power that was in this love._

 _And you came, a blessing._

 _I still remember the moment when everything changed._

Neither of us had used the "L" word yet. It was too soon for that. But what I felt for Weevil was different than what I had felt for anyone – even Duncan. I wasn't sure what I would call it. But it was intense. There was power in it. And everything had changed.

As I drifted off to sleep, I was aware that the contentment I felt was stronger than the chaos swirling around me. Before Lilly died, I had (what I now consider to be) a false sense of contentment. After her murder, all I could feel was the chaos. This new state – being aware of both at the same time – felt foreign, but right somehow.

[

[

The next day, it was Wallace who met me at my locker … with the morning newspaper in hand. He read to me from the article: "Since his removal from office, Keith Mars, the ousted sheriff, has tirelessly and single-handedly continued his own investigation despite being shunned by the community at large."

"You'd think it might be gross to read a love letter to your dad, but I kind of enjoy it."

While we were standing there, Weevil approached me. We exchanged nods.

He paused next to me briefly, asking, "Talk later?"

I nodded in agreement and Weevil continued walking.

Wallace shook his head and said, "Seriously, what is up with you two? You go into business together or something?"

"Or something. I gotta get to class. But we'll talk at lunch."

"You mean you'll actually sit with me today?" Wallace said in that mocking tone of his.

"Ha ha," I gave a fake laugh as I walked away. It was getting more and more difficult lying to my best friend. Lying by omission is still lying. Keeping the truth from him about one thing was hard enough. But two things – my Mom being back and this thing with Weevil – that was brutal.

[

Later in the morning, Weevil and I met up in a rarely used hallway.

"Will I see you later?" Weevil asked.

"I've probably got a busy evening at the office with Dad. Why, need tutoring?"

"Well, I think you know the answer to that, but mostly I want some time alone with you. Driving me crazy to see you and not be able to kiss you, hold you. Hell, I'd settle for talking openly."

"What do you call this?" I asked sweetly.

"A little too 'cloak and dagger' for my taste."

"Oh, um … Wallace has been asking questions. I was thinking that maybe you should be there when I talk to him. Find me at lunch?"

[

During lunch, I asked Wallace to come sit with me around the corner from the main seating area – where Weevil and I had shared French fries a while back.

"Alright, Veronica, what's this all about?"

"You've asked me a couple times about Weevil and I."

At the same moment that Weevil came around the corner, Wallace replied, "Yeah. I'm more than a little curious."

As Weevil walked over to sit next to me, Wallace eyed him warily.

I began hesitantly. "I'm sure you remember that I did a little favor for the PCHers after I cut you down from the flagpole. We struck that deal to keep them off your back." Wallace was nodding as I continued to speak. "That day at the beach when Logan bashed in my headlights and Weevil offered to help me out with the repairs … Then, when his grandma was arrested for credit card fraud, I helped him out, because I'm just crazy enough to think the guilty party is the one who should be behind bars."

Wallace looked back and forth between us. "Your point?"

"I've known him for years. Not only did we both grow up going to school together here in Neptune, but … well …"

Weevil let out a laugh as he said, "Her dad and I go _way_ back."

It was clear that Wallace wasn't sure if he should laugh at that or not.

To fill what threatened to become uncomfortable silence, I continued, "Yes. Anyway, even with … our long history, we did not really … you know, hang out. But after making the surveillance video disappear, we just sorta fell into this favor trading thing. Like when I was trying to track down the piñata from inside Troy's stolen car. Or when he used minor intimidation tactics to help me persuade the manager of a clothing store to cooperate with me. Then, I helped him get back his poker winnings that had gone missing. And occasionally, I help him review for tests or whatever."

Latching onto the last thing I had said, Wallace asked, "So, all this is about tutoring? And what? You want me to keep quiet about it … to protect his rep?"

"Well, yeah, but no," Weevil said as he glanced at me.

"Somewhere along the way, favors and flirting … turned into … something more." As I spoke, I held Wallace's gaze, waiting for understanding to show on his face.

"Wait. What?!" He was shaking his head as if that would make it go away. "No."

Weevil and I just nodded.

Finally, Wallace spoke. "This is why I don't get as many calls from you in need of help? I thought you just stopped pissing people off and getting locked in the trunk of your car."

I gave him a semi-apologetic look. "Turns out he makes a good bodyguard."

Wallace shook his head again and asked, "How long … when did you …?"

I answered, "It's been a few weeks or so since we first kissed."

Wallace was upset, but having played out the 'worst case scenario' in my head, his reaction was not really that bad. I explained that we hadn't told anyone else – even my Dad only knew about the tutoring.

Adding in a nearly pleading tone, I added, "I – we – would appreciate it if you could keep this to yourself … you know, at least until he has a chance to … They should really hear it from him."

The longer I waited for Wallace to reply, the more apprehensive I became about what his response would be.

Weevil cleared his throat. "Look, man ... I know you were just doing your job when you hit the silent alarm … and you didn't volunteer the video tape when Lamb asked. You … didn't deserve what we did." He looked down at the ground. "I could say I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I'd take it back."

"What did you just say to me?!" Wallace asked.

Weevil raised his head to look Wallace in the eyes. "What I mean is … I don't think I'd trade what I got out of it. And I'm not sure that you would either." He tilted his head toward me. "She doesn't let that many people past that wall she has built around herself. I don't think either of us would be this close to her right now if I hadn't taped you to that pole." He rubbed his jaw as he looked away. "I know that we … uh, settled things that day at the beach, but …" He reached his hand toward Wallace.

"I'm _not_ giving you the Sac-n-Pac tape. And this doesn't mean we're _friends_." Wallace glared at Weevil, but when he shifted his gaze to me, his expression softened.

Weevil leaned forward, his arm still extended. "Truce?"

"Yeah. Alright," Wallace said as he shook Weevil's hand. "But you do anything to Veronica – hurt one hair on her head, make her cry one tear – you'll regret it." He pointed emphatically as he said, "I mean it. I will dedicate my life to ruining yours."

"Got it." Turning to me, Weevil smiled. "I'm beginning to see why you two get along so well."

I was relieved to finally tell Wallace the truth about me and Weevil. Hopefully, I wouldn't have to keep my Mom's return a secret much longer.

[

When I walked into the office late that afternoon, I interrupted a conversation between Dad and Mrs. Fennel. She didn't complete her last thought. Her hand came up to cover her mouth as she shook her head.

Dad placed a hand on her arm as he asked, "Can we maybe finish talking about this later?"

She nodded, then turned and walked out without making eye contact with me.

"Dad, everything okay?" Seeing the look on his face, I didn't need to hear his answer. "Sorry. I know how much you care about her."

"Yeah. I felt like I had to be honest with her, but since things haven't really sorted themselves out yet … it kind of leaves us in limbo."

"Which sucks for her. Well, really, all of us."

Dad began speaking, as much to himself as to me, "Not long ago, I would have said I'd do anything if there was a chance to keep our family together. But now …"

"Yeah. I get it, Dad. I can't do anything to help, but I get it." I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before asking cheerily, "What's for dinner?"

"I told your mom that we'd meet her at that restaurant around the corner from the hotel. Conveniently, I could truthfully tell her that we are both swamped right now. But when she pressed, I had to admit that we could spare the time to eat together."

"You saw her earlier?"

"I met her in the hotel lobby for a cup of coffee. We talked for a while. Still something in my gut telling me to be cautious."

[

[

On Wednesday, Wallace wasn't acting normal. By the time we got to lunch, I decided that I had to ask.

It was obvious that he was concerned as he said, "Something's going on with my Mom. She told me not to worry about it, but she was upset about something when she got home last night. I don't think it's anything at work, unless it has to do with a friend there, because she doesn't ever get like this about work." He looked up at me. "Do you know if she and your dad had a fight or something?"

"Fight? No, I don't think so, but they were talking about something when I walked into the office yesterday after school." I couldn't outright lie to him when he asked a direct question, but I could keep my answer vague.

"Well, let me know if you find out anything. I know moms are supposed to worry about us, but sometimes I worry about her."

I didn't say it aloud, but I understood what he meant. I was beginning to get worried about my own mother. If Dad's gut was right, then it was possible she was still drinking. If he was wrong and he rejected her anyway … well, that would not exactly be good either. I was concerned, but honestly not sure which outcome I was hoping for – for our family to reunite or not. As abnormal as our home life was, it was more normal and more stable without the old Lianne. That was the million-dollar question: had Mom really changed or not?

[

Beaver came looking for me in the journalism room to unburden his semi-guilty conscience. After reminding me that his real name was Cassidy, he filled in some details from the weekend Lilly was killed. While he, Dick, and Logan were surfing in Mexico, Logan kept talking about the fact that Lilly was seeing somebody else. He said that Logan was so upset about it that he got up early to drive home to talk to her. She was murdered later that day.

[

That afternoon, Dad and I were talking about it in his office. I explained that Beaver told me Logan had gotten Lilly a shot glass for her collection. "It said 'I got baked in Ensenada.' She would have loved it."

I could almost see the lightbulb appear above his head as he jumped up and exclaimed, "Baked in Ensenada! Veronica!" He sifted through papers in the murder files. "This is an inventory of everything in Lilly's bedroom, everything in Lilly's car." Stabbing his finger at the paper, he said, "Shot glass. Baked in Ensenada. It's here. It was in her car. You know what this means?

"Means Logan found Lilly."

[

[

The next morning, I was hanging out at my locker, hoping that Weevil would drop by. Someone did stop to talk to me, but not who I was expecting. It was Logan. Thankfully, it was a short conversation. He seemed rattled by the recent news about Abel Koontz and tried to spin a scenario that involved Duncan killing Lilly.

He walked away just before the bell rang and the hallway cleared as everyone headed to class. I ducked into a nearby empty classroom and pulled out my phone to call Dad. Not only did I feel like I should tell him right away that Logan had approached me – just in case things escalated – but I was also curious if he had been able to find out when Logan drove home from Tijuana.

"The Border Patrol got back to me. Logan's car crossed the border at 8:57 a.m. on the day Lilly was murdered. Beaver was telling the truth."

As the chilling realization hit me, I said, "He had plenty of time to get back to Neptune and kill her."

As we finished the call, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around to see Weevil standing in the doorway.

"That's not what it sounded like." It was my attempt to keep him from becoming more angry than he already seemed to be.

"It sounded a lot like Logan killed Lilly. These rich boys think they can get away with anything, don't they?"

I pulled him into the classroom and shut the door. "I need you to promise me that you're not going to do anything stupid. I think we have enough evidence for them to arrest Logan. I know it's tough, especially in this town, but you need to trust the system. Let the authorities handle this and don't get yourself into trouble."

"V …"

"I know you'd momentarily feel better beating Logan to a bloody pulp, but then you'd probably be dealing with assault charges and he'd get sympathy for being the victim."

"Standing back and watching isn't really my style, V."

"Even if you're standing next to me?" Head tilted. Eye lashes batted. " _Please_. Eli, promise me."

He dropped his head in unspoken acknowledgement that he could not withstand my charms.

Softly, I said, "Soon, this will all be behind us – everything connected to Lilly's murder. And we can try to figure out what a _normal_ relationship looks like."

"I wish I had your optimism. But I do like how that sounds," he said warmly.

He looked around, drawing attention to the fact the we were alone in the empty room. Then, he slid the bag from my shoulder, pressed me up against the wall, and kissed me until we were both breathless.

[

After school, I went straight to the office. I found Dad sitting on the couch, staring at a stack of papers. He told me that he had met with Celeste Kane about the fee for finding Duncan.

"She agreed to pay up, but only if you sign this contract that says that you'll waive any claim on the Kane fortune."

He watched as I signed without even reading it.

I shook my head as I said, "There's nothing that I want from them." And I meant it.

He proceeded to unfold a piece of paper that turned out to be the results from a paternity test. As he showed it to me, he explained, "You didn't sign away a thing. Veronica, I am without a doubt your father."

Simultaneously, I laughed, cried, and hugged my dad. "Yeah, you are!"

"You think that charm of yours is learned behavior? That's genetics, baby!"

As we both regained our composure, the conversation turned to Logan and the fact that Dad could now disprove his alibi.

When Dad left the office, I called Weevil to give him the good news. And there was plenty of it to tell: Logan should be arrested soon, Weevil would be getting his cut of the finder's fee from the Kanes, and last but not least, the DNA test results. I couldn't help it – I cried while I was telling him.

I could tell Weevil was smiling as he said, "You've had a _very_ good day. Just do me a favor? When you call Wallace, please make sure he knows that _I'm_ not the reason you're crying."

I laughed at that. "Nope, not you. And besides, happy tears."

"And happy laugh."

* * *

A/N:

Next chapter = continuation of #1.22 "Leave It to Beaver"

Song on the CD: "Y Llegaste Tú" by Sin Bandera (feat. Andrés De León) 2002

Thanks for reading. Until next time …

~Jen

19 April 2017


	13. Chapter 13: S1 Ep22 cont

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Continuation of modified #1.22 "Leave It to Beaver"

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

At school on Friday, Weevil was nearly stalking Logan. I suggested that he back off or at least be a little more subtle. But he persisted right up to the moment that Lamb and his deputies stopped Logan on his way through the parking lot after school.

Weevil had a huge grin on his face as he approached my car.

I rolled my eyes as I said, "Nice to see you so happy. Just wish that I was the reason for that smile on your face."

"Oh, the smile – that's definitely Logan. But the spring in my step – that's all you," he said with a wink and a smile.

[

I had just gotten home when my phone rang. It was Logan asking if I could help him out of his current jam. I wasn't really sure how to reply to his request, seeing as my Dad and I were the reason he was presently being questioned by the Sheriff.

Mom dropped by to spend some time with me, hoping we could make dinner together. I made up some excuse about having plans since it was Friday night. She asked if there was a new boy. I told her I was just hanging out with friends. Then, I told her a little bit about Wallace and Mac – throwing her some details of my choosing as a form of misdirection.

After Dad walked in the door, I told him I was taking Backup to the beach for a walk.

[

I had only been at the beach for a couple minutes when Logan appeared out of nowhere. He was upset at my betrayal, but he seemed more sad than angry. He told me what I already knew – that he knew Lilly was seeing someone else, that he drove back to talk to her. What he added was that during the drive he couldn't decide if he was going to yell at her or try to get her back.

"I saw her at the carwash. I just parked across the street and watched her. And I just knew it was over. So, I sat in my car and I wrote this note to her … and I left it in her car."

"With the shot glass," I said as I realized his story was plausible.

"Yeah, with the shot glass. You know, if you read that letter, you'd know I'd never hurt her."

Just then I heard the sound of a car horn followed by my father's voice yelling, "Hey! Get away from her! You get away from her, now!"

As he approached, Logan made a quick departure.

Lately, Weevil had been my bodyguard, but my father was and would always be my primary protector.

As I gratefully fell into his arms, I said, "Dad, how did you know to come here?"

"When you left, I called to check on Logan's status. He lawyered up and they released him. Lamb told me that he let it slip that the info came from us. I had a hunch he might come looking for you." He kissed the top of my head. "I'm gonna head back to work. I've still got some stuff to catch up on. Tell your mom not to hold dinner for me."

I called Weevil to give him an update and to make sure he wouldn't do anything stupid about Logan. I assured him that we would get Logan the right way.

"How can you be so sure, V?"

"About that … I think I have an idea, but I probably shouldn't go alone. Can you give me a ride later?"

[

Mom had finished cleaning up the kitchen after an early dinner and was watching tv. Dad was not yet home. I took a quick shower and dug through my closet for certain pieces of white and black clothing.

The Kanes were having an event at their house tonight. I planned to sneak in as wait staff. I would add a wig and glasses to further disguise myself from people who knew me.

The letter that Logan said he left for Lilly wasn't found in her car. She might have had a chance to hide it when she got home after the car wash. If so, I knew where she would have hidden it. That meant I needed to get into her bedroom.

I went out to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and let Mom know I would be leaving soon. As I walked back into my bedroom to put the wig in my bag and grab a jacket, I absentmindedly took a sip from the bottle. Before I even swallowed, I tasted the vodka on my tongue. I ran into my bathroom and spit it out into the sink. As I poured the contents of the bottle down the drain, it all started to click – this was the water bottle Mom had with her _at all times_ since she came back.

After I closed my bedroom door, I called information. "Hi. The number to the Hazelwood Facility in SoCal?"

Although I shouldn't have been surprised by what I had just been told, I was stunned as sat on the edge of my bed. I texted Weevil and asked him to come to my door when he got here.

I walked out into the living room and casually looked through her purse and the pockets of her jacket, making sure that she had not taken anything or somehow gotten a copy of the apartment key.

As I was finishing, she noticed my actions. "Honey, what are you doing?"

"I'm getting ready to go out and I need you to leave now."

"What? What do you mean?"

"You can't be here anymore. I know, Mom. I know you're not through drinking. I know you didn't even finish rehab. You checked yourself out … and that was my college money. I bet on you and I lost. I've been doing that my whole life. And I'm through."

"Veronica ... it's not easy."

"I know it's not."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. I opened it and invited Weevil in. With one look from me, he read the situation.

"Mom, you need to leave. Now." I handed her things to her and held the door open until she walked through.

The turn of events, as well as Weevil's presence, made her visibly uncomfortable. She paused on the welcome mat to look back at me. Although she seemed about to say something, she decided against it when he took a single step in her direction. I shut the door as she walked away.

He and I talked briefly about what had just transpired. But I quickly changed topic to the undercover plans for the evening.

[

I told Weevil to drop me off at the end of the driveway and wait for me a couple houses away. Once inside the house, I blended into the hired help in the kitchen, picked up a tray, and made my way toward the bedrooms. I made it into Lilly's bedroom unseen, pulled a chair over toward the vent up high on the wall, and began to remove the screws. This is where she hid stuff she wanted to keep away from her mother's prying eyes.

As I was being pulled down from the chair, I realized it was Duncan's voice asking, "Who the hell are you? What are you doing in here?"

I removed the curly black wig so he could tell it was me, as I explained that I was looking for something. His reaction was angry as he tried to drag me out of Lilly's room, saying that I should be looking for clues in his room. I tried to get him to calm down by telling him that I didn't think he killed his sister.

After he listened to me explain what I knew about the day she was killed and what I thought I might find in the vent, he said, "Let's see what's in there."

Watching as I pulled out three small video tapes, Duncan said, _"_ I've got a camera we can play them on."

As the first tape played, Duncan recognized Logan's pool house and I added that she was wearing her pep squad outfit, which she had worn the day she died.

Lilly stretched out on the bed and look up at the ceiling, directly into the camera as if she just realized it was there. She moved out of frame and the recording stopped.

Duncan put in the next tape, saying, "This one's dated October 1st."

As uncomfortable as it was for us to watch, we got all the information we needed. Lilly was clearly having sex with someone and when they shifted position, that someone looked directly into the camera.

Duncan paused the tape, shocked as he looked at the face frozen on the screen. "Mr. Echolls?!"

"I know what happened."

She had told me she had a secret. 'A good one,' she had said.

Turning to Duncan, I said, "I have to get these tapes to my Dad. Will you help me? Keep Aaron in your sight at all times until I call you." Then, I started to go through the door.

"Hey! Be careful. Okay?"

I stepped back toward him, figuring now was as good a time as any to let him know the truth. "My dad had a paternity test. I'm not your sister."

Feeling a dark cloud lift, we exchanged smiles before I left.

The moment I was out of the house, I called Weevil and asked him to come get me. Then, I called Dad to tell him that I had evidence that Lilly and Aaron Echolls were having an affair. And that I thought he was the one that killed her.

He asked, "Where are you?"

"I'm just leaving the Kanes' house. Aaron's here. He's talking to the Governor. Duncan's gonna keep an eye on him. I'll be home in ten minutes."

"Alright. You come straight home. You don't stop for anything."

By the time I finished talking to Dad, I had walked to the bottom of the driveway and Weevil was pulling up next to me.

I dialed Logan's number as Weevil was getting a call from Felix. After I left a voicemail, I realized that Weevil was talking about Logan.

"He's drunk? Weevil, it wasn't Logan. He didn't do it. His dad killed Lilly. Make sure they don't hurt him. Tell them to have him listen to my message. Maybe … get him home safely? _Please._ "

Weevil didn't look happy about what I was saying, but he trusted me. While he finished talking to Felix, I took a call from Duncan.

"Veronica, I can't find him. I've been asking everyone, but no one knows where he is."

"Call me if you find him," I told Duncan as I hung up.

"Dad said come straight home. So, let's go," I said as I put on the helmet he handed me.

"Sounds like Mr. Echolls gave Duncan the slip."

I nodded my reply as I climbed on behind Weevil.

The fastest way to my apartment complex included a curvy road that had wooded areas on both sides of the road. There was the occasional house, but for the most part, it was secluded.

Weevil was traveling just over the speed limit, attempting to get us there as quickly as possible without being delayed by a traffic stop or an accident. As we were going around a large curve, I could see headlights. There was a vehicle coming up behind us.

I tapped Weevil on the shoulder and pointed to his side mirror. He nodded that he saw the car. He sped up, but the car was still gaining on us.

An odd thought ran through my head: I wonder if anyone has ever written a word problem using this scenario. A motorcycle traveling at 60 mph is being followed by a car. The motorcycle increases speed to 65 mph, but the car is still gaining on it. If the motorcycle traveled 5 minutes before the car caught up, what was the average speed of the car?

I think it was my brain's way of avoiding the more immediate concerns: Was Aaron Echolls in the car behind us? And if so, what would happen if he caught up to us before we made it home?

All I could do at this point was hold on, trust Weevil, and try to think one step ahead of Aaron.

Oh … and stifle a scream.

The car came right up behind us and tried to bump the back tire of Weevil's bike. He was watching in the mirror and anticipated the driver's action. He sped up and began to weave back and forth between lanes. He had control of the situation for a mile or so, but then the car tried to run us off the road.

By this time, I was holding on as tight as I could without interfering with his driving. I don't know how he saw it, but there was a break in the trees. Weevil intentionally made a sharp turn off the road. There was small clearing next to the berm. It was connected to a walking path, which he was able to follow for a while. Coming to a place that was impassable, he quickly stopped the motorcycle and turned it off.

"Off. Now. Gotta hide this," he said, as he hurriedly swung his own leg over the seat. He began walking the bike over rougher terrain to a place behind a fallen tree where it could be hidden.

His instinct was right. Although we were in the midst of trees, the area was not densely wooded. The sky was clear tonight and the moon was bright. If it was Aaron driving the car and he came looking for us, light would easily reflect off the chrome and paint. Weevil moved as quietly as possible to use a few branches to further camouflage it from view.

I had removed my helmet and listened intently. I could see the car's headlights and knew that it was parked on the side of the road near the beginning of the path we had followed. I could hear rustling in the distance, but wasn't sure what it was or if it was getting closer.

Moving over near Weevil, I pulled out my phone to check if there was any signal. There was, but it was weak. I turned off the ringer and quickly sent my Dad a text with a rough idea of our location, but simply said we needed roadside assistance. What good would it do to worry him more than he already would be?

Both Weevil and I had made the assumption that Aaron Echolls was driving the car. Soon, we knew that we were right.

We heard Aaron yelling: "Veronica, dear. Where are my tapes?"

Unsure if my dad would get the text in time to help us, I started to devise a plan as Weevil hid our helmets near the bike.

I whispered to him, "I'm going to hide the tapes … away from your bike … over there where there's more ground cover. Stay here or move back out toward the road – maybe you can get someone to stop and help."

He grabbed my upper arm, holding me still as he said, "Running and hiding are not really my thing, V."

I kissed him, hoping it would not be last kiss we shared. Then, I pleaded with him, "Be smart. He probably has a gu—"

Just then, a single shot fired. Aaron called out maniacally, "Veronica. I'll let you go as soon as I have my tapes back."

I held a finger to my lips indicating to keep silent. Then, I pointed to myself and the direction I was headed. I moved as quietly as possible. Crouching down behind a cluster of bushes, I pulled the tapes from my messenger bag. My fingers bumped into something and I remembered that I had left a GPS tracker in there from a previous case. I put the tracker and the videotapes next to a fallen branch, using leaves and twigs to cover the items. Now, I wouldn't need to remember where I hid them – the tracker would lead me back.

Throughout this time, Aaron was still yelling: "Where are the tapes, Veronica?"

I found my way back to where Weevil had hidden his bike, but I couldn't see him anywhere in that area.

Aaron's voice was now coming from my right. Straight ahead, I could still see the headlights from his car. I decided to move toward the road. When he spoke again, it seemed that he was also moving toward the road on a path parallel to mine.

He continued taunting, probably seeing if he could provoke me to respond. "You know, Lilly never told me where the tapes were hidden either. I kinda think there's a cautionary tale in that, Veronica. Something like … I'm not going to let a seventeen-year-old piece of ass ruin my life," he said just as I reached edge of the tree line along the road. He let out a laugh as he spotted my position, which must have been silhouetted by the lights. "There you are!"

As Aaron came running toward me, I saw a vehicle in the distance. I leapt into the middle of the road and tried to flag it down. As the truck began to slow down, I heard a thump and a scuffle to my left. I turned to see that Weevil had tackled Aaron just as he was coming out of the woods. During the scuffle, a gun had fired and then went flying. I went in search of it.

The two of them were exchanging punches and words. I couldn't hear everything they were saying, but I did hear Weevil saying something about the fact that he had also slept with Lilly. That seemed to escalate Aaron's anger, which had already reached the level of blind rage.

As the vehicle approached, its headlights helped me find the gun lying in the road. I picked it up and had it aimed at the two of them. I yelled to Weevil to get out of the way so I had a clear shot, but they continued to fight. And as they did, they bumped into me, knocking me to the ground and the gun from my hands.

By now, the driver had gotten out of the delivery truck. He picked up the gun, which he pointed at Weevil. The well-meaning Good Samaritan had recognized Aaron Echolls and assumed that he was the one who needed saving. Aaron backed away from Weevil, thanking the driver.

I jumped in front of Weevil and began yelling an explanation that he was pointing the gun at the wrong person. I managed to convince the driver to keep Aaron from leaving until the authorities arrived. I asked Weevil for his phone so that I could call 911 and had him stay on the line. Then, pulling my phone from my pocket, I called Duncan with a quick update and then my Dad, who was already on his way.

Dad's car approached from one direction as two cars from the Sheriff's Department came from the other. When Dad was trying to make sure that I was okay, I had to break free of his hold to explain to the deputies that they had cast the wrong person as the bad guy.

Again, I threw myself in front of Weevil and began to explain that he had been protecting me.

Lamb asked skeptically, "Let's assume for a second that I believe you … that Weevil Navarro was coming to your rescue. Why was he protecting you? And from what or who?"

"I found evidence that should move Aaron Echolls to the top of the suspect list in Lilly Kane's murder. He ran us off the road and came after me to get the evidence – I assume to destroy it. He had a gun … the one the driver was holding when you got here. Weevil was just trying to protect me from Mr. Echolls."

Lamb was watching both Aaron and Weevil as I talked. Weevil stood calmly, waiting for the situation to resolve. Aaron, on the other hand, was highly agitated and just wanted to get in his car and leave. Lamb's a bit slow, but not so dumb that he didn't pick up on who was acting guilty. He had the deputies restrain Aaron as he approached Weevil.

All business, Lamb said, "I need to frisk you and put you in cuffs 'til I can verify the gun is registered to Aaron."

Weevil's jaw was set as he said, "Fine, but you won't find my prints on it. Never even touched it."

I piped up, "But you will find mine. And the truck driver's. And Aaron's."

Lamb took in that information and continued talking to both Weevil and I. "I'll need statements from both of you. By the way, Veronica, where's this evidence?"

"I hid it in the woods when Aaron came after us." I turned to Dad. "I had a GPS tracker in my bag from another case. You'll find it with the videotapes that Duncan and I discovered. Weevil's motorcycle is in that same area behind a fallen tree."

There was a blur of activity while my Dad tracked down the tapes: Lamb checked on the gun registration, the deputies were taking statements, an ambulance showed up to check us out and clean us up, and rights were being read to Aaron. As the blur slowed to action I could clearly follow, Jake Kane pulled up to the scene with Duncan in the passenger seat. Lamb had to hold back Mr. Kane, who was yelling hysterically as the deputies were putting Mr. Echolls into the back of a squad car. Then, Lamb placed Mr. Kane under arrest for obstruction of justice.

I sat with Weevil while the paramedic, a woman about my mother's age, finished treating him. Aaron had fired a bullet just before the gun went flying and I picked it up. That bullet just barely grazed its intended target – Weevil. It had nicked his ear, requiring him to sit still long enough for the woman to clean the wound and put a bandage on his ear. Words could not begin to express my simultaneous joy and relief that Aaron's aim had not been more accurate.

At some point, I realized my father had been watching us. And I wondered how much he had seen. I was so happy that we were both relatively okay that I wasn't paying attention to how much affection Weevil and I were showing one another.

Weevil said he wanted to call to check on the situation with Logan on the bridge. I handed him his phone. Then, I walked over to where my Dad was standing.

Dad had apparently not missed a thing. "Based on recent observations … using my skills as an investigator, I'm gonna guess the two of you are dating." He sat down on the guard rail, indicating that I should have seat while we talked.

"No, not dating. Not officially. Haven't been on a date."

In a tone that conveyed he was not completely surprised, he said, "You _did_ tell me you were spending time together. How much time? For how long?" Dad asked calmly.

"Not long. You can look at my phone if you want – calls, texts." I handed it to him as I made the offer.

He accepted it hesitantly. Dad scrolled through the call log and nodded as he said, "Not as often as you used to talk to Duncan." Then, he skimmed through the messages and exhaled what I assumed was a sigh of relief that there was nothing X-rated.

Weevil walked over to us as Dad handed my phone back to me.

Looking up at him, I said simply, "Dad asked, so I told him … about us."

Taking my hand as he sat next to me, Weevil looked my Dad squarely in the eye. "I've been wanting to take her out … on a real date. But she wanted to talk to you first."

"It's been a long night. For the moment, let's just say … I'll consider it." Dad reached out to shake Weevil's hand. "Thanks for protecting her … again." He started to walk to his car, leaving us alone. After a few steps, he turned back to say, "Will you be needing need a ride, honey?"

Before I could answer, Weevil jumped in. "Yes, sir. She will." He turned to me with an explanation. "I need to go check on the guys."

"And Logan," I said with understanding. "Especially now." I turned back to my Dad. "Give me one minute? I need to take care of something."

I grabbed Weevil's hand and led him over to where Duncan had been standing. His dad's car was gone and I had to assume that he had driven it home.

"V, wanna tell me what we're doin'?"

"If they take Logan home, he will be alone, which is maybe not the best idea right now. I was hoping to catch Duncan to see if Logan can stay at his house tonight."

Weevil nodded as I called Duncan, who agreed with me. I handed my phone to Weevil so the two of them could work out the details.

He ended the call. "We'll take care of it."

"Thanks. Are you sure you're okay to drive?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, V. The nice paramedic lady cleared me – even gave me a lollipop since I was such a brave boy and didn't cry at all."

He pressed his lips to my forehead while a hand on the back of my head held me in place for one thoroughly delicious (yet much too brief) moment.

My voice was soft as I said, "Just be careful. Okay? And call me as soon as you can."

We walked hand in hand to Dad's car. Weevil opened the passenger door for me. Then, he went over to where his bike had been parked when they brought it out of woods at the same time as the videotapes. He nodded at me just before he put his helmet on.

[

Dad and I were both quiet as he began the drive home. I can only guess what was going through his head, but as for me, I was trying to figure out how to tell him what had happened with Mom earlier in the evening.

Finally, I swallowed, took a deep breath, and plunged in. "Dad … there's something I need to tell you."

"Veronica, with everything that happened tonight and the inevitable media circus … if there's something else you think I need to know … about you and Weevil, can you … please, just save it for another day. I have too much on my mind right now."

"It's about Mom."

He groaned. "Oh yeah, add that to list of things I have to deal with."

"Well, actually … I dealt with it."

He had just pulled into a parking space in front of our building. After abruptly turning off the car, he asked, "What does that mean?"

"While I was getting ready to go to the Kane house tonight, I pulled what I thought was a bottle of water out of the fridge. I wasn't paying attention to the fact that I grabbed Mom's." I continued explaining the events from earlier in the evening, right up to Weevil arriving and Mom leaving. "If I had to guess, she's already gone."

Rubbing the top of his head, he said, "Probably. I mean, she didn't even call me to try to get her version in before you could talk to me."

He turned the car back on and began to drive to the hotel. Indicating that I should stay in the car, he went in by himself. A few minutes later, he came walking toward the car folding a piece of paper that I guessed was a receipt for the room.

Holding the paper in his lap, he looked at me and confirmed, "Yep. She must have checked out right after she left the apartment." He reached over to take my hand. "I'm sorry, honey. Somehow, we both knew something was wrong, but at some level, we so badly wanted things to return to normal that we were willing to give it a shot."

"Obviously, I'm not happy about the way things turned out, but I know it's for the best." I looked straight ahead through the windshield of the car as he drove back down the street. "Now what? You file for divorce?"

Pulling up in front of our building, he said, "I'm not thinking that far ahead at the moment." He patted my hand to get me to look at him. "Will you be okay here for a while by yourself?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Dialing his phone, he said to me, "I think I should go over to talk to Alicia." Then, his attention was on the phone. He said to her, "I hope I didn't wake you. I wondered if we could finish the conversation from the other day. I have a story to tell you and I'm pretty sure you're gonna like how it ends."

She said something that had my Dad grinning. I kissed him on the cheek and started to open the car door. Before I could get out, he had said goodbye, ending his call.

He pulled me toward him in a one-armed hug and kissed my hair. "I'll try not to be too late."

I just smiled at him before I got out of the car. As I strolled down the walkway toward our apartment door, I was amazed at how much had changed in the past several hours. I locked the door behind me, dropped my bag next to my desk, and sat in the chair. I pulled out my phone to check messages – nothing new. I sent a text to Weevil letting him know that I had gotten home safely and asking how things were going.

After getting undressed, I put my clothes in the hamper. If we still lived in our house with our own washer and dryer, I'd probably start a load of wash, but since we now live in an apartment complex, that would have to wait for another day when I could use the laundry room.

Checking my phone again, there was still no reply. I set my phone on the counter in the bathroom before stepping into the shower.

It felt good to wash away the day. And what a day it had been. It might even merit a diary entry.

I toweled off and put on a tank top and pajama bottoms. Then, I looked at my phone – still nothing from Weevil. I grabbed my diary and a pen, laid down on my bed, and began to write.

 _May 6, 2005_

 _To quote A Tale of Two Cities: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way …"_

 _After a year and a half, Lilly's killer is finally behind bars. That's no small thing._

 _But I felt the loss all over again. Maybe more so this time, because not only was she really gone, but I would no longer have the investigation to keep her alive in my everyday life._

 _To top things off, I also lost Mom all over again._

 _They say that life won't give you more than you can handle. They say that difficulties build character. Well, for the record, I think I've got enough character – in fact, I don't think I can handle any more._

 _So, if you're there, God – it's me, Veronica. And I have request for what I'd like to wake up to tomorrow morning: an epoch of belief, a season of light, a spring of hope, with everything before me. Because I feel like after experiencing all the bad stuff on the Dickens checklist, I've earned something good. If it sweetens the pot, I'll even stop asking for a pony._

I tucked my diary under my pillow. Looking forward to a good night's sleep while still waiting for a reply from Weevil, I turned up the volume of my phone's ringtone and held onto it as I began to doze off.

At some point, Dad came home. I had a vague memory of him coming into my room and saying "I love you" as he kissed my forehead and straightened my blanket. I was alert enough to check my phone and notice the time on my clock, which was 1:33 a.m.

Falling back to sleep, I had a dream about Lilly. It was a beautiful, sunny day. We were on floating lounge chairs in a pool.

Lilly was saying strangely cryptic things, as if she was saying goodbye – the goodbye we never got to say. She concluded with: "Don't forget about me, Veronica."

What she was saying was unthinkable. "I could never," I replied.

Then, she was gone. And I was alone in the pool. Tears streamed down my face as I felt the pain hit me again.

Suddenly, I was awake. Honestly, I'm not sure what woke me – the intense ache I felt in my chest or the knock at our door.

I looked out through my bedroom doorway and down the hall toward the front door. I hadn't imagined it; there was someone standing there. Rubbing my eyes, I approached the door. Peeking out the window, I smiled as I began to unlock the deadbolt.

"I was hoping it would be you."

"Sorry to wake you, V. But when I finally texted you, I didn't get a reply. I know you said you were home safe, but after tonight, I needed to be sure."

I pulled him into a hug and then into the apartment.

Dad poked his head out of his room, gave a quick wave, and mumbled, "G'night," before disappearing again. The knocking and our voices must have woken him up, but he obviously didn't mind Weevil being here or he'd have said so. I took that as a good sign.

We sat on the couch and he told me what happened after we went separate directions a few hours ago.

When Felix got off the phone with Weevil, he had some difficulty getting the guys to believe what they were being asked to do: help Logan. They managed to talk Logan down from the railing of the bridge, took possession of his keys, and got him to listen to my message. It was a little more difficult to convince him to let one of them drive him home. In the end, Thumper punched Logan, knocking him out. After they got him buckled into the back seat, Felix drove the car toward the designated meeting place. They waited there until Weevil called to tell them to meet him at Duncan's house.

They handed off Logan and his keys to Duncan. By then, Logan was awake and able to walk, though not in a straight line. Duncan had thanked them for their help, even told Weevil he owed him.

I did a quick time calculation in my head and asked what had taken him so long. He explained that the guys were more than a little curious why they were given such a strange set of orders and then they saw the bandage on his ear. He told them the whole story – skipping over the part where he had been sleeping with Lilly before she was murdered and also avoiding his current relationship with me. The version they heard was one big elaborate favor exchange. One where they came out ahead – with Logan, Duncan, and I all owing them. They seemed to be okay with that scenario.

Weevil's expression changed as he paused before saying, "Felix knows me too well. When the others left, he said he knew there was something I left out. He wondered if I had just been helping you with the investigation because Lilly and I …" His voice trailed off.

"I'm guessing you told him about us."

"Yeah, but he wasn't surprised. He knew something was up because he kept seeing us together. Apparently, he's been watching us … you know, when we talk at your car or locker. Also, he heard my grandma asking me if I was seeing someone. Tonight, he finally put it together."

"And the others?"

"Not yet. I'll tell 'em soon."

We sat there for a while before Weevil said he should get going.

As he started to stand up, I grabbed his hand, looked up at him with pleading eyes, and said, "Please, stay."

His reply was wordless, but clear. Even though my father was just in the next room, he laid down on the couch and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me to his chest.

I'm not sure how long we laid there spooning before I asked sleepily, "Isn't it better, like this?"

"So much better," he answered as his hold on me became tighter.

"This is how it's supposed to be." A contented sigh escaped my lips. "You know how things are gonna be from now on, don't you?"

"Mmm." Weevil nuzzled my neck and whispered in my ear. "Just like this … Just like this."

* * *

A/N:

Two more chapters ... epilogue ... remainder of the school year.

Thank you so much for reading! Until next time …

~Jen

7 May 2017


	14. Chapter 14: Epilogue

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Chapter 14 begins the morning after Aaron's arrest.

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

After a long and eventful Friday night, Dad had apparently decided to let me sleep in. Even before I had my eyes fully open, I could tell by the brightness of sunlight that it was late morning. But what really started to wake me up was the smell of bacon … and other food, but mostly … mmm, bacon.

I sat up, stretched, and said, "Good morning," as I opened my eyes. Then, reality hit me all at once: I was on the couch and Weevil was in the kitchen with Dad. My brain was running on a slight delay, but it was processing through the events of last evening and the fact that Weevil had spent the night here – apparently, alive to tell the tale.

Momentarily, I had a memory flash of writing a diary entry last night after my shower. The best of times, indeed.

Dad turned around as he put plates of food on the counter at the end of the island. "Good morning, sweetie. Did we wake you?"

"Blame it on the bacon." As I stood up, I said, "I'm just gonna make a pit stop before we sit down to eat." I needed a moment to myself to make sure I was fully awake before getting into whatever discussion might happen over breakfast.

When I came back into the main room, Weevil and I were alone. I leaned toward him to ask, "Did I miss anything you need to share with me before he gets back?"

He gave me a quick peck on the lips. "Nope, we're good here." Seeing my skepticism, he added, "Really. We came to—"

"An understanding," Dad said as he returned from the bathroom.

I made a face and pointed my index finger back and forth between them. "That's so cute! The two of you … finishing each other's sentences." What I really wanted to say was: who would have thought that the leader of the PCH Bike Club and the former Sheriff of Neptune would make such an adorable couple? But I kept that to myself.

While we ate, Dad told me what he had on his schedule for the day – basically doing whatever he could to help make sure that Aaron got what he deserved. It seemed that Lamb wasn't being a complete ass and was actually appreciative of Dad's assistance. There were a few loose ends Dad wanted to tie up, including a few things that we suspected about the timeline of events on the day of the murder. Dad wanted to fill in the gaps and then hand everything over to the Sheriff's Department.

He suggested that I pack a picnic and take Backup to the beach for the day – you know, do normal teenaged girl things. He added that if Weevil wasn't doing anything, Backup would probably like it if he went along too. Dad, the excellent detective that he is, had not missed the fact that Backup had a little thing for Weevil.

Weevil seemed to like the suggestion. I had to wonder if they had worked out this plan while I was sleeping.

"I called my grandma earlier to make sure she didn't worry about me not coming home. She started yelling at me on the phone. Your dad came up behind me, grabbed the phone out my hand, and—"

"Told Letty that he was fine, not in any trouble … that he had spent the night on our couch after helping us with a case last night," my dad said matter-of-factly.

"You know you completed his thought again, right?" I could hardly believe my eyes and ears.

Weevil shook his head. "Anyway. I've got time to go to the beach … with Backup … if you want." After seeing my smile, he added, "Just let me give Felix a call. Otherwise, they'll come looking for me."

While he stepped outside to make the phone call, Dad and I cleaned up the kitchen. We often talked as we did dishes. Today, he filled me in on his chat with Alicia last night. In short, it had gone well. She was glad to hear that Mom had left and that Dad wanted to continue seeing her. He suggested that I give Wallace a call at some point today.

"Actually, with everything that's in the news today, I'm surprised I haven't heard from him already." Just then, I heard my phone ringing. "And there it is. My BFF is checking up on me. It's nice to feel loved."

"Definitely better than when someone runs you off the road and tries to kill you to get back the incriminating evidence you have." Dad took a look at my face. "What? Too soon?"

As I walked toward my bedroom to answer the call, I said over my shoulder, "Yeah. Little bit."

While I talked to Wallace, I assured him that I was fine and wondered aloud if things might actually start to become normal. We discussed the fact that we were both starting to be okay with our parents dating. Still a bit strange, but considering what a crazy world we live in and the other options out there, we figured that them dating each other was not the worst-case scenario – for each of them or for either of us.

Weevil had come back inside. He was talking with Dad when I returned to the living room.

"Wallace and I had a nice chat." I paused as I looked at their faces. "Are you guys making plans without me?"

"Sort of. I was just letting your Dad know where I plan to take you. I figured we probably don't want to go anywhere local … or we'll run into people we know. And after last night …"

"Good thinking," I said.

"Anyway … I have a plan, which I was just running past your dad."

"Do I get to know the plan?"

He laughed. "Not yet. I'm gonna go home and get changed. I'll be back in about an hour."

"Do I at least get a clue what I should wear? Are we still going to a beach?"

He simply said, "Yes." Then, he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek as he said goodbye and left.

I looked at Dad, hoping for more information, but none was forthcoming. He raised his hands as if to say 'I'm staying out of it' and went back to putting the dishes away.

The radio was tuned to a classic rock station. Dad was humming along and swaying to the music. As the next song began, he stopped in his tracks, threw the towel on the counter, and walked over to turn up the volume.

He pointed at the stereo as he said, "This right here is a great song!" Then, he began to sing along.

 _Joy at the start_  
 _Fear in the journey  
Joy in the coming home  
A part of the heart gets lost in the learning  
Somewhere along the road_

Before I could escape to take a shower and get ready, he launched into a soapbox speech about the timeless truth in the lyrics and what he considered to be the downward spiral of popular music in recent years. I nodded, told him I could see his point, and left the room while he was singing the last lines of the song.

In the shower, the song continued to play in my head. I'd heard it many times over the years. I hadn't previously given much thought to the words – the description of life as a journey that includes both good and bad. The best of times, the worst of times. Surviving it all and learning the lessons it has to offer. Maybe now I will have a moment of rest to ponder what I can learn from the past year and a half.

[

When Weevil returned, he was in a black t-shirt and dark gray cargo shorts. The only time I ever saw him in shorts was gym class. He must have read that thought on my face.

"What? You knew I had legs, right?" He quipped as he reached out for the bag in my hand. "Let me help you with that."

I put on Backup's leash and locked the door behind me. He carried my beach tote and towel as we walked to the parking area. He had borrowed a car from a cousin of his, because his grandmother sent a cooler full of food for us. The earlier phone conversation with my dad had made Letty curious and she asked Weevil if I was the girl he'd been seeing. He said that she seemed concerned about it, thinking my dad would be upset if he knew. But he told her that he did know. She was somewhat relieved by that, but not completely.

After he put Backup in the back seat, he opened the front passenger door for me. Then, he got behind the wheel to take us to the mystery destination. Once we were out on the highway, he picked up my left hand and brought it to his lips.

I leaned my head back against the headrest and turned to look at him. "Are you ever gonna tell me where we're going?"

He looked as if he couldn't decide whether he was going to keep me in suspense or put me out of my misery. Finally, he said, "A cousin of mine has a place about an hour away. Right on the beach. I called her and asked if it was okay if we came up for the afternoon."

"Private beach. I like how you think."

"All this time, I thought you wanted me for my body. Now it turns out, you want me for my brain."

"No reason it can't be both," I said in my breathy 'Betty' voice.

Shortly after that, we pulled up to a cute bed and breakfast, an old house that had been painstakingly restored. After we parked the car, we walked down the sidewalk around to the back deck. His cousin didn't mind that we were bringing Backup, just requested that we not use the front door.

He knocked on the glass door before opening it. I stayed on the deck with Backup, looking out at the sand and surf below. His cousin came running to greet him where he stood just inside the door.

"Oh, Eli! It is so good to see you."

"Thanks for letting us drop by, Bri." Turning to me, he said, "Veronica, this is my cousin Brigida. Bri, this is … Veronica."

"Nice to meet you, Veronica. Wait … are you the one who helped out during that mess with Chardo?"

I figured she meant the time Letty was arrested for credit card fraud, but I hesitated to give an answer.

Weevil jumped in. "Yeah, this is her."

"Well, Aunt Letty said some very nice things about you. What did the two of you have planned?"

Again, he answered her, "Just looking for a stretch of beach where we won't bump into people we know. I guess, use of the restroom. And obviously, we're using one of your parking spaces."

"You hungry? Wait. I'm sure Aunt Letty sent food with you. Am I right?" After he smiled and nodded, she continued, "Well, you know where the kitchen is … if you need to put anything in the fridge or heat anything up. Just wash anything you use." She shook her finger at him.

"Thanks, Bri."

First, he walked back out to the deck to get the cooler of food to put in the kitchen. Then, we took a long walk on the beach, hand-in-hand with Backup leading the way. Dad had told me to do normal teenaged girl things. I had to admit that this felt like how I remembered 'normal.' Yet, it was surreal in contrast to last night.

After we walked back to the stretch of beach in front of his cousin's place, we sat down in the shadow cast by the deck. He spread out a blanket for us. Backup had found a stick and was begging Weevil to play with him. For probably half an hour, he threw the stick down toward the water. Backup retrieved it each time, never tiring of the repetition.

When Weevil had had enough of that particular fun, he tried to get Backup to sit next to us. Everything was fine while we were just sitting there, but when Weevil started kissing me, Backup decided he didn't like missing out on the affection and wriggled himself in between us.

Giggling, I rubbed Backup's belly and said, "He's not used to sharing me with anyone but Dad."

"Well, he's gonna have to get used to it."

Weevil took Backup about ten feet away and tied his leash to one of the deck posts. There was a patch of grass in the shaded area where Backup finally settled down to take a nap.

It was a perfect day – sunny, but not too warm. A light breeze moved the air around us. In the shade, it was actually a little cool.

Returning to the blanket, he sat down cross-legged and quickly pulled me into his lap, much like he had done at the club last Saturday. It was surprising, but not unwelcome. When he resumed kissing me, my brain queued up the song "Under the Boardwalk." It made me giggle again.

"Not exactly the reaction I was looking for, V."

"Sorry, the jukebox in my mind was singing, 'Under the boardwalk, out of the sun. Under the boardwalk, we'll be having some fun.' I promise I wasn't laughing at you."

"Better not be. Or else I'll have to start tickling you."

His eyes were pure mischief as his fingers found every inch of exposed skin with a whisper-soft touch. It didn't matter how he touched me or if he just gave me one of his many looks – all my nerve endings lit up when I was around him. I thought I understood what people meant when they talked about _chemistry_ , but I was only beginning to understand. Truthfully, it felt more electrical than chemical.

Minutes passed as he continued to kiss and caress me. His light touches had become firm, possessive holds. I more than understood how he was feeling. After the week we'd had, we were both glad to be alive. And this was one of the few times we had been alone together since the night at the club, which was one week ago tonight. It had been one crazy week of danger and heightened emotions.

One of his meandering hands settled on the back of my shorts, causing a visceral reaction. Although his hands had not sought out areas of skin covered by clothing, my body was reacting as if they had. Snapshots accompanied by sense memory flooded my mind. I was reacting not to his current actions, but to the actions of his hands when we were in the bathroom stall. It had been seven days, yet it felt like I was there right now. I was startled by the longing I felt. It was as if my senses had been on pause all week and had been allowed to resume.

My body was two steps ahead of my ability to choose my actions. My mouth released moans and mumbled words. My legs tightened their hold around his waist. My pelvis tilted and rolled in his lap. Every part of me wanted every part of him.

I pulled away from his lips to look in his eyes, wondering if he was feeling it too. For a long moment, we gazed at one another, breathless. In his eyes, I saw the same desire.

His physical response was unmistakable, but his verbal response was unexpected. "I'm in no rush. We have all the time in the world. Besides …"

"Besides what?"

He studied my face as he said, "Your father and I have an understanding."

I waited for him to continue.

"Basically … I don't corrupt you and he lets me see you."

A smile played at the corner of my lips. "What if I want to be … _corrupted_?"

Kissing me after each statement, he said, "No hurry. I'm not going anywhere. Plenty of time for that later."

Although I'm fairly certain his intent was to slow things down, his words made me want him even more. My lips found his and then moved down his throat. I must have found a sensitive spot, because he groaned and began to shift. He lifted me off his lap and laid me down in front of him. He started at my ankles – teasing my skin with his tongue, teeth, and lips, exploring each leg inch by inch. When he finally arrived at the hem of my shorts, he moved his head a few inches to the side where my hand was. Finding my fingertips with his lips, he began his tender assault on my arm, careful not to rest his weight on me. As he made his way up the length of my arm, he moved one of his knees between mine. By the time his kisses were trailing up my neck, his thigh was pressing against me.

When his lips at last met mine, I realized that I wanted to stay like this – kissing him, embraced by him – for as long as possible. It was the first coherent thought I'd had in a while.

The intensity leveled out and we hovered in this blissful buildup, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being together. He was taking his time. Giving us time. Time to process. Time to figure out what things could be like now. Is this what normal feels like?

With the sound of crashing waves and a sleeping dog in the background, we lost at least an hour in each other's arms. At one point, my growling stomach could clearly be heard over our moaning.

"Sounds like I need to feed you." He kissed my forehead. "I'll go in and get the food. Backup can have you to himself until I get back."

Before he could get up, I grabbed ahold of him and pulled him on top of me. After I had given him a long, slow kiss, I said, "His kisses don't taste as good as yours. And he needs his nails trimmed."

"I hope those aren't the only differences."

"You're in luck – I prefer the look and feel of a clean-shaven head," I said as I watched him walk toward the steps that led up to the deck.

It didn't take long for him to get the food. Then, I left him with Backup for a few minutes while I went in to use the restroom. On my way through the lobby to go back outside, Brigida asked if she could talk to me a minute.

"I'm not sure how to say this, Veronica." She took a long look at me as she considered how to proceed. "Since the two of you go to school together and your dad was Sheriff, I have to assume that you are all too aware of … Eli's life." She paused as I nodded. "I don't know you, but based on what Aunt Letty has said," she pointed at the newspaper on the desk as she continued, " and this article in the paper, plus the way Eli is with you, well … you seem to be really good for him. He acts tough, but he's had his heart broken and he's been let down by people who should have been there for him. He's my cousin, so of course I'm protective of him. But girl to girl … go in with your eyes open. There's a lot about his life that I wish were different. If you're willing to deal with those things and dig through the rubble that others have left in their wake, well … you'll never find a more loyal guy."

I had been examining her eyes as she spoke. "I'm guessing that he comes here a lot. When he needs to get away? And he tells you things? Talks things through with you?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Then, you know about Lilly." I continued after her unspoken admission. "Lilly was my best friend, but since her death, I see things a little more clearly. And she did not always take the feelings of others into consideration. She could be selfish and flighty. But I'm not her. He knows that."

"He came here in January … talking about a girl … asking for advice. And then again in March. Was that you?"

"He left me several anonymous notes and flowers leading up to Valentine's Day. So, yeah, he was probably talking about me."

She just nodded and smiled. Without any words, she said quite a bit. Must run in the family – the ability to communicate with the eyes.

Just before I went back outside, I said, "If you normally read the paper and he keeps you informed of events in Neptune, then you probably know that my life has been a bit messed up too. And there's some other … well, things you won't find in the paper." I looked down at the floor as I chose my words. "He gets me in a way most people never will."

She looked at me with sad eyes that seemed to know what Neptune could do to a person. "Well, the two of you are welcome here anytime." She handed me a business card. "Just call ahead so I know to expect you."

When I rejoined Weevil, he had already filled plates for each of us. I had brought some dog food for Backup. So, he ate while we ate.

Much of the time, we ate in relative silence. The repetitive sound of the ocean was exactly what I needed. Crashing waves and Weevil's company were the perfect prescription after the stress of last night.

As we were cleaning up and preparing to go, he told me about how Bri met her husband Benito and that they stayed here on their honeymoon. They fell in love with the place and came back again. The older couple who owned it took a liking to them and hired them to help out at the busy B&B. When the couple was ready to retire, they offered to sell it far below market value. It turned out to be a good deal for both couples. Part of their agreement was that the previous owners get a free room for three weeks each year.

I could tell by the way Weevil told me the story of their success that he was proud of Bri for making a better life for herself. I also detected a bit of jealousy. Then, I thought of what he had told my dad about his future plans. I decided that Bri was likely a source of inspiration for him.

We walked up the stairs to the deck. I sat on a chaise while he went inside. When he returned, Bri and her husband came with him.

She said, "Veronica, this is my husband, Benito."

He reached out to shake my hand. "Ben. Nice to me you, Veronica. Looks like you had nice weather for your picnic today." He squatted down to pet Backup.

"We did. Thank you for your hospitality."

Bri replied, "Oh, we didn't do anything. Some other time, you'll have to have a meal in the dining room."

"Bri is a great cook," Weevil and Ben said at the same time.

She laughed self-consciously. "Not as good as Aunt Letty, but thanks for the compliment, guys."

After we chatted for a few more minutes, Weevil put a hand on my lower back as he said, "We should get going."

We said our goodbyes and headed for the car.

During the drive home, I alternated watching the scenery out the window and watching Weevil's face, which was more relaxed than I normally see it. I found myself wishing that every day could be like today.

"Thank you for a wonderful day, for taking me there."

"Anytime," he said with a crooked smile on his face.

"I'm gonna hold you to that."

"I hope you do."

"Besides, I have an open invite from Bri," I said, waving around the business card she had given me.

A few miles from home, I asked him to pull into a gas station. I came back to the car with a few copies of the newspaper. Seeing the confusion on his face, I shrugged and said, "For my scrapbook."

It wasn't long before he pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building; the magical day was over. Back to life; back to reality.

He got out of the car and walked around to open my door. He put on Backup's leash as I stepped out of the car with my beach tote on my shoulder. He was about to kiss me when he seemed to realize that we were no longer miles away on a private beach.

He shut the door and leaned against it, saying, "So tomorrow?"

Sighing, I replied, "I have to catch up on homework."

"And I figure there's some daddy-daughter time on your father's agenda."

"That's a safe bet." Handing him two copies of the paper, I said, "Here. For you and your grandmother. Please thank her for me … for the food today. And tell her I'd love to come for dinner sometime."

"She'll be glad to hear that." He laughed – a happy laugh.

[

[

On Sunday, Dad went to the office for most of the day. We planned to have dinner and watch a movie when he got home later.

After all of the recent stress, I found it almost unbelievable that I was able to focus on homework today. It was amazing how quickly I got through my assignments. When Weevil texted to ask if I had time to talk, I could honestly say that I did.

Putting the phone on speaker, I packed my bag for school Monday and picked up my room.

"Hey there, beautiful. I miss you."

A smile spread across my face. "I miss you too. And it hasn't even been twenty-four hours."

"That's too long."

"If we survived Friday night, we can survive this," I joked.

He laughed. "By the way, thanks for thinking to pick up the paper. She cried and hugged me … then cried some more. One copy is in the wooden chest where she puts keepsakes. The other, she cut out and hung on the fridge."

"She's proud of you … and she should be."

"I bet she never thought she'd see my name anywhere in the paper … well, except the police blotter."

"This time next year, you'll be in the paper again … listed with the Neptune High School graduating class of 2006."

"I love your optimism, V."

With the vocal equivalent of a head tilt, I said, "But _I'm_ a cynic. If Ibelieve it's gonna happen, it's _gotta_ be a sure thing."

We talked about a lot of nothing, filling about an hour of time just to hear each other's voices. I heard the door open when Dad came home and heard his footsteps coming down the hall. So, I wasn't surprised when he stepped into my room.

Weevil was talking at that moment. "I hope you have a nice evening with your dad."

I looked over at my dad and he winked at me as I replied, "I always do. Make sure you review for that quiz you have tomorrow."

He let out a brief laugh. "Yeah, okay. I'll do that. See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight," I said and then ended the call.

My dad asked, "Did he know you had him on speaker?"

"Yes. Just didn't know that you came in. I left it on speaker on purpose … for your benefit."

"To prove that he's not just being polite to my face … to influence my opinion of him?"

"Exactly."

"And you are so sure about this, why?"

"Because he doesn't like how others have treated me. Told me I deserve to be treated better … long before our first kiss. Promised to treat me better. And so far, he has treated me much better than any of them. I know it's complicated and I'm not blind to the potential problems of dating the leader of the PCH Bike Club, but he's proven time and time again that I can trust him."

"Well, dear daughter of mine, I'm still 'Team Wait-and-See' for now." Holding up a bag, he said, "I brought Luigi's. Hope you don't mind. I didn't feel like taking the time to cook. Movie pairing suggestions?"

"I don't know. What goes with Italian food?"

He proceeded to list several ideas. "Godfather or another mob movie? The Italian Job – the original or new version? Tea with Mussolini? Only You? In Love and War? Or if you're in the mood for a classic: Roman Holiday, Rome Adventure, Come September, or The Light in the Piazza? Or perhaps, a little Fellini … La Dolce Vita?"

"See, now you're just showing off. Did you rent _all_ of those?"

"No, but I did get a few so you could pick. Only You, In Love and War, and the 2003 Italian Job."

"Tough choice. Robert Downey Jr. … or Chris O'Donnell … or Mark Wahlberg." Pausing to consider, I finally said, "Not sure I'm ready to see car chases yet. And not in the mood to see wounded soldiers."

"Only You it is. I guess you've earned a fluffy romcom since you took down the bad guy."

After filling my belly with pasta and garlic bread, I curled up on the couch next to my dad. I had seen the movie before, so it didn't really matter that I fell asleep before it ended. In the haze between waking and sleeping, I have a vague recollection of him carrying me to my bed, tucking me in, and setting my alarm.

It turned out to be a busy couple of days for Dad, but for me, it had been the most relaxing weekend I could remember in a long time.

* * *

A/N:

Song on the radio: "Along the Road" by Dan Fogelberg (1979)

Coming soon … Chapter 15 = Season 1 epilogue continued (Monday at school, etc)

When I wrote out the original idea for this fic, it was going to be two chapters, approx. 7K words. It was intended to be a _short_ diversion before returning to other projects … which are still waiting for my attention.

I've been trying to decide if I'll continue this into Season 2. I'll let you know next update.

Thanks for reading! Until next time …

~Jen

27 May 2017


	15. Chapter 15: Epilogue continued

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

You may have noticed that I changed the title from **Stall** ... to **Stall (Along the Road – part 1)** … because I have decided to continue this story as a series. See A/N at end of this chapter for more info.

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

Real life resumed on Monday morning. When I pulled into the school parking lot, I could see Logan and Duncan standing between their cars. They watched as my car passed them. The PCH Bike Club also seemed to be awaiting my arrival. I was the link between them. Me and the events of Friday night.

By the time I had my door open, Duncan was next to my car, ready to talk. He apologized for not calling over the weekend, adding that I shouldn't be concerned and that things were relatively good under the circumstances. He started to tell me about the PCHers getting Logan to his house, but I interrupted and told him that I had already heard about it from Weevil. I should have expected what he said next, but it caught me a bit off guard.

"I wanted to ask … are you ... I mean, I saw the two of you together Friday night. I'm not gonna say anything to anyone else. I just wanted to tell you that I noticed and that … he's … different than I thought." He looked over toward Weevil before he finished his thought. "Not that you need my blessing or anything."

Weevil walked up to us. He and Duncan exchanged nods. Duncan correctly sensed that was his cue to leave. As he was walking away, Logan joined him.

Weevil gave a discreet signal to Felix, indicating that they should head in without him. He and I stood there for several minutes talking. Although we had talked on the phone on Sunday, we had spent the day apart and it seemed like forever since I had seen him, held him, kissed him. I found it difficult to be this close to him and pretend that we were just friends. Secrets could be sexy, but I was quickly growing tired of keeping this one. Good grief, it was going to be an unbearably long day!

[

At lunch time, I carried one large box and a smaller one over to the table of PCHers. I sat down next to Felix, placing the large box in front him. I thanked them all – but him in particular – for their assistance the night at the club and for dealing with Logan this past Friday.

Felix opened the box of Snickerdoodles, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply. "Mmm." After he took a bite, he exclaimed, "The girl can bake! Seriously … these are … mmm." He began to hand them out to the others.

"Only for people I like." I pointed at each them as I pretended to glare. "So, stay on my good side." I followed it with a wink at Felix.

Weevil cleared his throat conspicuously and asked, "And what do I get?"

I moved over to his side of the table. Standing behind him, I leaned over to put the smaller box in front of him. I opened the lid, revealing heart-shaped cookies. "You get my undying thanks," I said loud enough for all of them to hear. I placed a hand on his shoulder to steady myself as I placed a kiss on his cheek. As I slowly stood up, my mouth passed by his ear and I quickly whispered without moving my lips, "Later?"

He looked up at me and nodded.

As I was walking back to my own table, Logan intercepted me.

After explaining that most of Friday night was a complete blank, Logan said, "I hear I have you to thank for getting home … well, to Duncan's home safely on Friday night."

"Not entirely my doing," I said as I tipped my head toward the PCHers. "You might consider thanking them."

He looked like I had suggested that he ingest snake venom.

I shook my head and teased, "I'll go with you and hold your hand, if you like."

Logan groaned, "Let's get this over with."

I walked up behind Weevil, my hand on his shoulder. As I spoke, I directed my words primarily at Felix. "Logan has something to say."

His discomfort obvious, Logan cleared his throat and shifted his weight before speaking. "Veronica suggested that I should thank you. But since I remember very little on Friday night, I don't know what I should be thanking you for." He saw them bristle at that and realized he didn't phrase it well. "What I mean is … whatever you did, thank you." He nodded at Weevil and I before returning to the 09er table.

Weevil not-so-subtly patted his hand on the bench next to him. I sat down as he said, "He really doesn't remember anything?"

The others were waiting for my answer.

"He says he remembers driving around and starting to drink, but he doesn't remember ending up at the bridge. Says the next thing he remembers is waking up at Duncan's house and being delivered the news of his father's arrest."

"You believe him?" Weevil asked.

"Yeah, I do."

Thumper laughed as he said, "I kinda wish he remembered me punching him."

Felix added, "His face healed fast."

There was a little more chatter among the guys, but Weevil and I were in our own little world. This brief moment of public closeness was all we'd get until our relationship was public knowledge. I sat there for a few more minutes before going back to my table with Wallace.

As lunch was ending and everyone headed to class, Logan asked if I could meet him in "my office" sometime that afternoon. We arranged a time to meet in the bathroom.

[

When we met, Logan seemed to need someone to talk to about the events of Friday night. Duncan had told him about finding the evidence, witnessing Aaron's arrest, and the PCHers delivering him and his car to the Kanes' doorstep. But Duncan had told him if he wanted to know anything else, I was the person to ask.

Unsure how much detail he would want about the videotapes, I tried to be clear about the fact that Lilly and his Dad were having an affair while leaving some aspects to his imagination. He seemed stunned by the information and yet resigned to that fact that he had only known Lilly as well as she had let him.

He shifted track, asking about the events that were missing from his memory – anything that had happened between the time he started drinking on Friday evening and when he woke on Saturday.

I explained that I only knew most of it second hand. "If you want to know the full story, you'll have to ask Weevil … actually, Felix is who you'd want to ask."

The "Out of Order" sign was hung on the door as usual. I was a bit surprised when someone not only tried to open the door, but knocked when the doorstop would not allow them entrance. Curiosity got the better of me and I walked toward the door. I heard a voice say, "V, open up."

Opening the door, I asked, "You need something?"

Weevil looked over toward the sink to see who I was with. Then, he gently pushed the door so he could step in. "Heard you were holding court. Thought I'd join the fun."

What he meant was that someone told him I was in here with Logan and he didn't like the fact that we were alone. Clearly, he still didn't like or trust Logan.

"Logan was asking me to fill in his memory gap from Friday. I was just saying that I wasn't there for most of it. Since you're here, you could tell him."

As he leaned against the wall, Weevil looked at Logan who was leaning on the counter. "No idea how you got to the bridge. The guys found you there. Last they knew, you were the prime suspect and I had asked them to keep an eye out for you. When they saw you on the railing, I suspect they were trying to decide if they'd let you stumble and fall … or pull you down and stomp on you. Felix called to let me know they found you about the time V was telling me that your dad had done it."

"That's when you left me the message?" Logan asked me. "I listened to it the next morning after Duncan told me what happened."

Weevil continued explaining about the events after Aaron's arrest: me being concerned about Logan being at home alone and him arranging to get Logan to Duncan's house.

"Any idea who punched me?"

I looked at Weevil before asking Logan, "You remember that?"

"No, but I've got quite a shiner." Seeing the confusion on our faces, he said, "The thing about being the son of movie stars, you get to hang around set … learn handy tricks like makeup application. Also, my mom had to cover her fair share of bruises over the years. Watched her go through the process enough times, I could do it in my sleep. Conveniently, Dad has not cleaned out the drawers of her vanity." As he talked, he was admiring his handiwork in the mirror.

The turn in conversation made me uncomfortable. I knew that Aaron abused his wife and Logan, but to have him talk about it so casually was unnerving.

Ending the silence, Weevil said, "They got you off the railing to listen to Veronica's message. But you were insisting on driving yourself … being uncooperative when they offered their help. The way I heard it, Thumper knocked you out so they could get you in the car. And then Felix drove you."

"Well, I don't have any other bruises, so that sounds believable." He dropped his head and went silent.

I saw the weight of everything begin to hit him. "Logan, you're gonna get through this."

He looked up at me with tears threatening to stream down his face. "Am I?"

I took a few steps to him and pulled him into my arms. He willingly collapsed on the shoulder of an old friend and let more than a year's worth of emotion pour out. He blubbered his way through a nearly incoherent monologue that included Lilly and her murder, his messed up family and his mother's suicide, being questioned for a murder that his father had committed and the very real possibility that he could have died on Friday night.

All I could do was hold him while he cried. But as I did, I became increasingly aware that Weevil was uncomfortable with the situation. I tried to communicate with my eyes that he did not need to be jealous or concerned. My effort may have lessened the intensity, but it did not entirely appease him.

Logan leaned back, mumbling that he was ruining my shirt. He was probably right, judging by the makeup sliding down his cheek. He used a paper towel to wipe his face, but it became apparent that his expert coverup work was now ruined.

"You wouldn't happen to have a compact on you?" Logan quipped.

"No. I have powder in my locker, but no concealer or base. I think your best bet is going to be removing the remaining makeup and proudly sporting your black eye."

"You wouldn't happen to have …"

Before he could finish, I said, "I have makeup removing wipes in my gym locker." I turned to Weevil. "Will you stay here with him 'til I get back." Seeing that he was not happy about that, I added, "That or you can go to the girls' locker room … wait, don't answer that."

Weevil smiled and said, "Fine. But hurry."

"Please, don't beat each other up while I'm gone."

They both gave me a look that said, 'No promises.'

I don't know what happened while I was gone, but when I got back, the mood was roughly the same. I began cleaning Logan's face. He was watching my face while I worked. He didn't seem to mind us being so close – didn't seem to mind at all.

He looked at me, his eyes curious. "I assume you are still with the mystery guy you told me about. While you were gone, I asked Weevil here if he knew who you were dating. He wasn't real forthcoming with information. Thought I'd ask you directly. 'Cause if you happen to be single again, my invitation to dinner still stands."

Without a second's hesitation, I looked directly in his eyes and said, "My answer would still be no, Logan. But for the record, yes, I am still seeing him." Even though he was several feet from me, I could feel Weevil relax as I gave my firm answer.

"Things are serious, then? Still not gonna tell me who?"

"Yes to the first question. No to the second." As I took one last pass across his skin with a clean wipe to be sure that all the makeup was gone, I said, "There. Finished." And I stepped away from him. "I'm truly sorry that your life has been so crappy for … well, for years. And if there's anything you need, I will try to help."

"But I should stop asking you out?" After I nodded, he pushed off from the counter. Then, he turned to examine my work in the mirror. "Look at that. It changed color again. How pretty do I look?" Ever the jokester. In a sincere tone, he said, "Thank you, Veronica. For your part in Friday night, for letting me cry on your shoulder, for …" With a flourish, he pointed at his face. Then, he gave me a quick hug. For the first time in quite a while, he acknowledged Weevil's presence. "Well, I presume you came here wanting to talk to her about something … so I'll just let myself out."

When the door closed behind Logan, I shoved the doorstop under the door. "Well, that was fun!"

"Definitely what I had in my day planner," Weevil replied sarcastically. Pulling me into a hug, he nuzzled my neck. "Not gonna lie – it was hard to watch. Especially after the way Lilly went running back to him."

"But you know that I …"

"I do. I trust you. Just not sure I trust him. He's not gonna give up that easily."

"I think once he finds out who my … um, who I'm with, he may think twice before asking me out again." I gave him a tender kiss, keeping my eyes open to see his expression.

"You'd think, but I'm not sure he's that bright."

"For right now, cut him a little slack. I can handle him. And if it gets to the point that I can't, I'll let you know. But right now … seeing him … that broken. I don't want to add any unnecessary drama." I studied his eyes and found little change in his opinion. "For now?"

"For now," he said just before kissing me on the nose.

I checked my watch. "We should get back to class."

[

When I was getting books from my locker in between classes, I found something that Weevil had left for me – a test he had taken recently. I remembered he had been worried about this one, but he had done really well. I was so proud of him, so happy for him. I looked down the hall to where he stood. The smile on his face was at least as big as the one on mine.

I closed my locker and practically ran down the hallway toward him. Holding the paper in front of me as I approached him, I squealed, "Amazing!" Then, I gave him a huge hug.

He returned the hug, but said into my hair, "You know there are people around, right?"

I took a small step as I backed out of his arms. "And that would matter why?"

He barely moved his lips when he spoke, just above a whisper. "Careful …"

"Or what?"

"Or I'm gonna kiss you … right here, right now." He gave me a look of warning.

Neither us of moved. I don't think we even blinked.

I whispered in reply, "I'm on a schedule here, vato."

With no facial expression (but there was a glint in his eye), he hooked his index fingers in two of my belt loops, suddenly pulling me toward him. And then, he kissed me … in front of God and everybody.

Dropping the test paper, I slid my hands up his arms and across shoulders, finally landing on his chest. His hands moved also – one coming to rest on the back pocket on my jeans, the other on the back of my neck. As we finished kissing, he pressed his forehead to mine, holding my head in place with his hand.

Even as I enjoyed the contact I had been missing since Saturday, I was ultra-aware that all movement and sound in the hallway had ceased. When I opened my eyes, I found that we had quite an audience.

Weevil shook his head, saying, "You asked if this would ever get more normal." In front of the stunned silent observers, he offered me his hand and asked, "Walk you to class?"

[

At the end of my next class, Wanda Varner intercepted me as I was exiting the classroom.

"Veronica, I'm disappointed in you. I thought you were more truthful."

"Nice to see you too, Wanda. Now, what are you talking about?"

"Remember the night we were working on my campaign posters? I asked if you shared Lilly's bad boy thing. You swore there was nothing going on between you and Weevil."

"And there wasn't … at the time."

Wanda's angry face broke out in a wicked smile as she giggled and said, "Well, that has obviously changed. Care to share details?"

I mimed zipping my lips and throwing away an imaginary key. Then, I walked to my locker where Mac was waiting for me.

Her face was wearing a serious pout as she said, "I thought we were friends."

"We are."

"Then, why do I have to hear such monumental news through the school grapevine?"

"I assume you heard something about Weevil and I …"

"Kissing in the hallway. Yes. Put that together with the news from Friday night … and well, it seems you've been holding out on me. Now, spill."

"Not sure we have time for complete spillage." As I was about to continue, I felt someone step up behind me, an arm around my waist, and lips on the side of my neck. Although I knew who it was, I turned to acknowledge him before finishing my conversation with Mac. "But yes, he and I are together. Up until today, only a few people knew – and only recently. The kiss earlier was … spontaneous. We didn't plan to …"

"Be what everyone's talking about this afternoon … and the foreseeable future?" Mac completed the sentence for me.

I could tell that I was blushing slightly. "Definitely not planned."

"But well executed … from what I've heard." She laughed. "Wish I could have seen it. And the reaction of the crowd."

Just then, Wallace joined us. "Yeah, I missed the show too."

Mac asked him, "Did you know?"

"For about a week. Apparently, tutoring and favors lead to this," Wallace said as he pointed at Weevil and me.

"I knew about the favors, but not the tutoring." Mac's face was a kaleidoscope of confusion, fascination, and curiosity.

Weevil interjected, "Speaking of tutoring … can I drop by tonight?" Seeing my questioning look, he added, "Math."

"Well, actually for math, you're better off with one of these two. Wallace is a future engineering major. And Mac's prowess with numbers is not confined to 1s and 0s." As I said that last part, I felt the need to expand the thought. "She's a magician with computers. You may get me the word on the street, but she's my cyber sleuth."

Looking at Wallace, Mac asked, "Have you appropriately threatened the new boyfriend?"

With a raised eyebrow, Weevil looked at me. "Boyfriend, hmm? Got that label fast."

I responded, "It takes too long to say 'the guy who hangs around my locker and kisses me a lot.' Got a label you'd prefer? I mean, we're well past the bodyguard phase of our …" Tapping my finger on my lip, I continued, "Oh, what's the word? … relationship." I winked at him.

Before Weevil could answer my question about label preference, Wallace interjected, "Whatever he is to her … yes, I threatened him." He nodded at Mac and shot a sideways glance at Weevil.

Mac faked a scowl as she said to Weevil, "Well, let me add that if you do anything to Veronica, I can make your world crumble within the hour." Seeing Weevil's amused expression, she continued, "See, in almost every sector, records are digital – which means that, for instance, I can hack into the Sheriff's Department and fabricate charges … edit your record … put out a warrant for your arrest."

Still skeptical, Weevil asked me, "Can she really do that?"

"I wouldn't mess with her, if I were you. You remember The Purity Test? When 09ers were paying $10 a pop to see other students' results?" I gave a quick look at Mac, who was still glaring at Weevil. "Have you seen Mac's shiny new Beetle?"

Weevil looked at Mac with newfound respect. "That was you?"

"I will neither confirm nor deny my ability to create an online business that brings in enough cash to buy the car of my choice." She smiled briefly before the scowl returned. "You really don't want to mess with my friend. Gotta it?"

"No need to threaten. Not gonna hurt her." Weevil kissed my neck again. "See you later, beautiful."

[

When the final bell rang, I went to my locker. Many people were giving me strange looks, but nobody said anything to me directly. I didn't see Weevil in the halls, so I walked out to the parking lot by myself. He and his boys were already at their bikes, deep in conversation.

I decided to drop by long enough to ask if he still planned to come to the office later. After he nodded, I added, "I'll let you get back to business." As I turned to go, he reached out to take gentle hold of my arm. As his eyes questioned mine, I responded, "It's fine." And I really meant it. I hoped he could hear that. But when he didn't release his hold, I tilted my head slightly and continued, "Hey, come on. I'm not some girly girl who needs to be … tended to. Besides, when I have stuff to take care of, you don't get in _my_ way." I looked around at all the eyes and ears studying our conversation, as if trying to figure out how this new relationship was going to affect their lives. In order to put all their minds at ease, I simply said, "Call it professional courtesy." I leaned in to kiss him. "If you need me, you know where to find me."

As I walked over to my car, I was certain that he was watching me. While opening the driver's side door, I glanced over my shoulder and confirmed that his attention was on me. I gave him a little wave and he nodded. And that's all it took to make my heart flutter.

Most of the PCHers had blank looks on their faces. Felix was trying to hide a smile. However, I couldn't help but notice (and be a little unnerved by) the expression on Thumper's face. If looks could kill, I'd have been standing in a pool of my own blood. I wasn't sure what to make of that. And I wasn't sure how or when to bring it up with Weevil. But I would definitely need to keep an eye on Thumper.

[

That evening, Dad left me alone at the office to finish up some printing, filing, and research – the not-so-dangerous investigatory activities. He had dinner plans with Mrs. Fennel. It was cute the way he nearly skipped out the door. Nice to see him so happy.

About an hour after he left, I heard motorcycle engines outside. I listened to see if they were passing by our building or stopping in front. The sound stayed close, but lessened in volume. Then, I heard them drive down the street.

I was feeling disappointed until I heard the sound of boots on the floor of the hallway. A few seconds later, Weevil entered with Felix.

Looking up at them from behind my desk, I said, "Good evening. Did you want something?"

Weevil smirked before saying, "Wanted him to know where your office is. In case I need them to check on you."

Playing mildly angry, I replied, "But they've followed me before … which means they've been here before."

His tone pushed back against mine. "Yes, but I wanted Felix to know where you are in the building." He looked at Felix as he said, "Give me your phone." He dialed a series of digits and my phone rang. Immediately after I answered, he ended the call. He instructed both of us, "Put that number on speed dial."

"Guess I have a _group_ of protectors now."

He walked over to me, placing a hand on the side of my face. "You have two. Your dad and me. But when I can't be there, I'll delegate." He nodded to Felix, who did not immediately leave.

Just before he turned to go, Felix said to me, "Not sure if I said it earlier, but thanks for the cookies. Anytime you wanna bring more … maybe a box just for me? That'd be okay with me."

Smiling, I said, "That can be arranged."

Ready to leave, he bumped fists with Weevil and then faced me, adding, "Weevs is family, a brother – which means if your safety is important to him, then it's important to me. You need something and you can't reach him, you call me." The last three words had a serious weight to them. It was not a request to be taken lightly; it was a demand.

Both of them were waiting for me to respond. Looking Felix in the eye as I wrapped an arm around Weevil, I said, "I will."

After Felix left, Weevil asked, "Okay if I stay a while?"

"I was about to order some food. Dad's out with Wallace's mom. Care to join me?"

His attention was drawn to the motor running down below. He walked over to the light switch and deliberately turned the lights of our office off and on, twice in row. Then, the motorcycle drove away.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"So he knows what window to look for from outside."

"To know if I'm here alone at night?"

He just nodded and then asked, "What kinda food were you thinking?"

We ended up ordering pizza. While we were waiting for it to be delivered, we could have started on his math assignment, but opted to procrastinate a bit. We passed the time making out on the couch, which is not nearly as comfortable as the one at home. And the office not nearly as romantic as the beach at his cousin's B&B. But we were together. After everything that's happened, that was all I cared about at the moment.

[

[

And so it went the remainder of the school year … doing the normal boyfriend-girlfriend thing. Well, as normal as it gets when a teenaged detective is dating the leader of a motorcycle gang.

When this school year began, I had one person I could count on. Dad. Now, I've got Wallace, Mac, … and of course, Weevil. My life looks so different than it did before Lilly's murder. My life before was … well, it was _nice_.

But Little Red put it best: "I know things now – many valuable things – that I hadn't known before … Nice is different than good." *

I thought of the discussion Weevil and I had about The Outsiders. Decent looking versus good character. These past couple years made that distinction incredibly clear to me. I found myself wondering whether I was finished learning that particular lesson.

I'm pretty sure we all know the answer to that. After all, this is Neptune.

 **THE END**

 **of**

 **Part 1**

* * *

A/N:

* Quote from Little Red Ridinghood's song "I Know Things Now" Into the Woods (Sondheim)

Thanks so much – particularly to those readers who've taken the time to comment and/or have been reading since I started this last June. I'd love to hear what you think now that Part 1 is complete.

While deciding if I'd continue this story, I tried to imagine how I thought this would play out. I wrote out the ending I saw in my head (occurs weeks after the reunion) and then outlined how to get from here to there – deciding who would live and who would die, who would go to emergency and who would go to jail. I like what I came up with – so it will continue as a series (5 parts). There are some fun (and not-so-fun) plot twists ahead. You may even hate me a couple places along the way. But I promise … after all the ups and downs, there will be a happy WeeVer ending.

COMING SOON: **Process (Along the Road – part 2)** … which will take place during Season 2. It will begin with the summer months, still working on the missing person's case in this fic, etc. Chapter 1 should be up within a few weeks.

I also have a few ideas for shorter Weevil-centric fics (not related to this series) … hope to have two of those up in the near future.

Thanks again! Until next time …

~Jen

10 June 2017


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